


The Greater Good - Part One

by IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis



Series: The Greater Good [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Elder Wand (Harry Potter), Godric's Hollow, HEA, M/M, Muggles, Nerds in Love, Period-Typical Homophobia, St. Mungo's, The greater good, Wizarding Politics (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2020-07-04 19:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 48
Words: 278,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis/pseuds/IhaveAbadfeelingAboutThis
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is sorted into Slytherin, Ariana isn't killed, and Albus leaves with Gellert as planned. The Summer of 1899 stretches into 1900 and beyond.Let's give these boys a happy ending.





	1. Welcome to Godric's Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> *The under age warning is because Gellert will be 16 when this fic begins. The age of consent was raised to 16 in England in 1885, and it continues to be the age of consent there to this day. However, 17 is canonically considered to be "of age" in the Wizarding world, and many readers today consider anything under 18 to be "under age" - so in the interest of not shocking anyone... you have been warned.
> 
> Originally, this story was meant to take place within in the Alternate Universe that I set up in _Aethelfrith the Wise_ (a Sorting Hat centric fic.) However, this fic has now deviated so far from its original outline that I am no longer considering this story to be part of that series. Rather - I am going to consider that the _premise_ of this fic is _inspired_ by that fic, so it is happening in something like an alternate alternate universe, LOL  
> The premise of _Aethelfrith the Wise_ is that the Sorting Hat no longer takes the desires of the children into consideration _at all_ when making sorting decisions - with all sort of repercussions - including Albus being sorted into Slytherin.
> 
> This fic is compliant with _Aethelfrith the Wise_ through Aethelfrith's chapter 3 (so, through 1902 - where Part One of _The Greater Good_ ends.)  
> In other words - you can get supplemental information to this GGPart1 in chapters 1 and 2 of _Aethefrith the Wise_... and chapter 3 of Aethelfrith will be marginally relevant to Part 2 of _The Greater Good_... 
> 
> Finally -  
> As always, JKR owns any of the characters you recognize, as well as the storyline that inspires all of this work. I'm not making any money off of this. I am writing for the love of the work only.

Prologue  
Summer 1898

Summers were awful. Mother and Abe were close – and worked together to keep Ariana “safe.” They seemed to suspect that Albus did not agree with how the family was handling Ariana. Albus was less certain that Ariana required protecting than that everyone needed protecting from Ariana. When she was calm, she could be sweet, but any emotion made her terrifying – her magic was wild, unpredictable, and powerful. Once, she somehow magicked Albus from the kitchen into the well. Another time, she vanished all of the food in the house. Then there was the time that she transfigured the cat into a book, and put him on the shelf. The transfiguration lifted only after the cat had died of starvation. 

Aberforth and Mother didn’t see the problem. Albus wondered constantly what they might do to him if they thought it was necessary to protect Ariana. At least once, he had seen Abe thinking that it might be better to obliviate Albus – to make him forget his family altogether. That was not only unfair, it was dangerous – there would be too much to erase – Albus might lose more than just his family identity.

So here he was again – “home” for the summer, living alone with two (maybe three) dangerous people. And in a new town, so no landmark, no faces were familiar. Each person Albus encountered would need to be read to determine if they were a Muggle or not, if they had heard of his family or not – if they were safe or not. This summer – like every summer – was looking to be lonely and exhausting. 

Still, the house in Godric’s Hollow was alright, Albus supposed. Each person had their own bedroom, which was nice, and there was enough space in the garden for his mother’s herbs and flowers and Ariana’s chickens, without resorting to extension charms. Albus had a corner room, with windows on two sides: one looking towards his neighbor’s attic, and two more on the front of the house, overlooking the village square. It was better than his last room, which had been dark, with one tiny north-facing window.

His mother had moved to Godric’s Hollow in March, when he and Aberforth were in school. There had been another incident. Ariana had expelled the entrails of a Muggle neighbor’s cow. Accidentally of course. Why his mother continued to settle them in mixed towns was beyond Albus’ comprehension. Did she not realize that living with Muggles had been what had caused their problem in the first place? 

At least the Muggles in these mixed villages had become somewhat accustomed to strange happenings, unlike the Muggles in Whitston Green – the village the Dumbledores had been living in when Ariana was attacked. It was the village where his mother had grown up – where her family still lived. It had been nice living near his grandparents, but his parents had failed to appreciate the danger of living on a Muggle street. Maybe they became complacent, what with Albus and Aberforth having had no incidents. The whole “the youngest gets away with anything” syndrome. But of course, Ariana _hadn’t_ gotten away with it. There was a reason Mother had hovered over the boys on the rare occasions when they were not hidden away indoors.

Immediately after the attack, Mother had obliviated all Muggle witnesses and moved the family to a mixed town: Mould-on-the-Wold. But as Ariana’s condition worsened, and it became clear that she was unlikely to recover, Father became fixated on the boys responsible. He went back to Whitston Green one night, and tortured them. Cruciatus. He had said that he was stepping out to the pub - no one in the family knew where Father had really been until the next day, when Aurors came to arrest him. Father refused to explain himself. Mother understood that he was trying to protect Ariana, so from then on, the entire family fell into line. Without ever discussing it, the Dumbledores committed themselves to secrecy – to hiding Ariana and her condition.

The Dumbledore family didn’t talk about anything, really. Not anything important. Albus and Aberforth had never been told what had happened to Ariana – they only knew what they had overheard: “attacked… neighbors… only children…” Nor had they been told that she had lost control of her magic – though that was obvious enough, living with her. They didn’t discuss Ariana at all, beyond, “Ariana picked the flowers on the table,” or “Ariana prefers rice,” or “Shh! Don’t wake Ariana!” And no one ever spoke of Father, though Albus remembered the day of his arrest clearly.

Among the things not to be mentioned were the moves. Mother never gave notice before moving, and she never said why. Just an owl with, “Last week, we moved to Ottery St. Catchpole.” Or Tinworth, or Chudley, or now, Godric’s Hollow. Albus was tired of moving. Arguably it didn’t affect him terribly, because it always happened when he was at school, and he only lived at home for three months out of the year. But this was the fourth time coming back to a new house since he had started Hogwarts, and it was disorienting. 

Of course, Albus knew why they moved. Kendra kept Ariana under a strong Notice-Me-Not charm, but it was not always possible to hide her magic. If the neighbors began to be suspicious – _when_ the neighbors began to be suspicious – the Dumbledores moved.

But it wasn’t until he perfected his Legilimency that he understood why Mother was so committed to hiding Ariana. He saw her discussion with Father – it couldn’t have been long after the move to Mould-on-the-Wold – Mother said that she feared that Ariana would never recover, and Father said, “Of course she won’t!” Then he said that if she was admitted to St. Mungo’s, the family would never see her again. 

Who were Mother and Father to declare that Ariana was a hopeless case? Were they Healers? No. If they had taken her to St. Mungo’s at the start, they might have found a cure, or at least a treatment, or (as a last resort) a way to bind her magic – to make her effectively a Squib. It would be a loss, to be certain – but at least she would not be accidentally killing cows and shattering windows and setting fields on fire.

But even if she were to be made to stay in a ward for the rest of her life, no one could keep them from _seeing her_. No matter where they lived on the island, they could floo to St. Mungo’s - they could visit Ariana every day, if they wanted to! It might be less cruel of an option than constantly moving a mentally unstable girl from place to place. As things stood, she would be confined to the house for the rest of her life – or sometimes escaping the house and terrorizing livestock. Without anyone trying to solve the problem, her accidental magic would never be under control. 

All of this moving, all of these lies, all of this inconvenience – he blamed the Muggle boys, sure. But his family was also to blame. It was their choice to deal with this tragedy by turning inwards – by isolating themselves. 

Mother knocked on the door, interrupted Albus’ ponderings. “What do you think of your room, Albus?”  
“It’s – quite nice, Mother. Thank you. I’m enjoying the view.”  
Kendra laughed, “From your bed, Albus?”  
He rolled his eyes, and offered half a smile. “I _was_ enjoying the view. Now I am enjoying a think.”  
“I imagine you miss your friends…”  
He rolled over and sat on the edge of his bed.  
“I live in Slytherin House nine months out of the year. Coming home is always – an adjustment.”  
Albus always tried to avoid lying to his mother. Everything he told her was true – he just… neglected to mention that he didn’t really have friends, per se. Allies, like-minded dinner companions, study partners, symbiotic relationships… Yes. Friends? No.  
It did not occur to Albus that his mother communicated with him in exactly the same way. He himself lived by the very secrecy of which he complained.

“I thought you might enjoy visiting our next door neighbor. I hate for you to be stuck in the house all day. I know Aberforth and I are not sufficient company for you.”  
Albus did not respond. He was tempted to lie back down, just to show his contempt for the idea of visiting this unknown person. Mother was always trying to introduce him to people, and it rarely bore fruit. Serendipity had proved to be a much better matchmaker than his mother.  
“She’s not your age – she’s in her fifties – but she _is_ a witch. Very scholarly. A wicked sense of humor.”  
“Mother…”  
“She told me she read your article in _Transfiguration Today_. Something about animals?”  
“Trans-species Transfiguration.”  
“That’s it!”

Of course it was. Obviously Albus would know what he had written about. Nevertheless, he kept his annoyance from showing on his face.  
Neither Kendra nor Albus mentioned that he had never told her that he had been submitting articles to academic journals – much less that he had been published.  
“So – Madam Bagshot was quite impressed. She asked to meet you.”  
Well. Tea with _Madam_ Bagshot might be worthwhile after all. She would not be looking to be _friends_ , but to be, perhaps, collaborators. Or at least, she might serve as a reference, an introduction into academic circles outside of Hogwarts. _Madam_ – a witch with a mastery living right next door. Albus was beginning to think he was going to like living in Godric’s Hollow. He tried not to think about the inevitable ignominious flight from the village. Perhaps that would be a long time off, this time.

“Alright, Mother. I’ll send her an owl.”  
Kendra laughed. “She is right next door, Albus. And she said that you are welcome to drop by any time.”  
Albus knew that no one actually meant that. Madame Bagshot would be put out if he arrived at three in the morning, for instance.  
Albus went to cast a Tempus, but he couldn’t find his wand. Right. In the drawer. He wouldn’t be 17 for another two and a half months. He sighed.  
“What time is it, Mother?”  
“Half past four.”  
When did she have dinner? Early – as early as 5? Or later, as his family did? Impossible to guess.  
“I’ll drop by tomorrow then. About two, probably.” 

Kendra smiled and nodded, then turned to walk out the door.  
Albus called after her, “Thank you, Mother.”  
Albus was thankful – thankful that his mother was thinking about him – about his boredom and his need to be around people. He was too much of an extrovert to enjoy the isolated life his family led. And somehow, his mother had noticed. It was easy for him to forget that she noticed anyone but Ariana.


	2. Beginning at an End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that, in this universe, Albus was sorted into Slytherin and not Gryffindor - so he leans more towards the pragmatic than the idealistic. He also leans more towards the measured than the impulsive, but - he still has hormones!
> 
> I am assuming period-typical attitudes about same-sex attraction, so - Albus may be almost 18, but he is in for an awakening.

Chapter 1  
June 1899

“Petrificus Totalus!” Ariana dropped to the floor.  
Aberforth looked from his sister to his brother in horror. “I agree, Al, that Ari needed to be subdued, but wouldn’t it have been kinder to…”  
Aberforth had begun moving towards his wand (the wand he was _not meant to use_ as a 15 year old), so Albus uttered the spell again, and Aberforth crashed onto the slate floor, face first. Albus only felt a little bad for hoping that his brother had broken his nose. Albus had only done what was necessary – but if Abe couldn’t see that, then he also couldn’t be trusted not to reverse Ariana’s body-bind – not to turn on Albus and perhaps even obliviate him. Or worse yet, vanish “the evidence.” Albus would leave both his siblings for the Aurors to sort out. He hoped that the spell would hold that long.

If only they had a floo! The Dumbledores hadn’t been connected to the floo network since leaving Whitston Green. There was always a chance that Ariana would be discovered by an unexpected guest. Or that the sudden whooshing of green flames would startle Ariana into burning the house down or something.

Albus ran next door and knocked on Madame Bagshot’s door.  
“Albus! What an unexpected surprise! I have someone that you simply must meet!”  
“Madam Bagshot…”  
“Bathilda, dear.”  
Albus sighed. This was going to take all evening at this rate. “Bathilda. I am afraid that this is not a social call, but rather an emergency. May I please use your floo?”  
“Of course, Albus. Right this way. I hope that Kendra is alright!”  
He didn’t answer, but he imagined his grim expression told the story.

When Albus arrived in Bathilda’s parlour, he couldn’t help but notice the beautiful boy sitting in Albus’ favorite chair, reading one of Albus’ favorite books. He had blonde wavy hair, well defined features, unusually perfect, blemish-free skin. The boy looked up at Albus and cocked up one eyebrow. Right. Emergency. For Merlin’s sake – being 17 was ridiculous. And now he had an audience… What an introduction! What would he think of him?  
Right. Getting distracted again. “Priorities, Albus, priorities.” He had not meant to mutter that out loud. He heard an amused huff behind him.  
‘So glad to be tonight’s entertainment.’ That thought he managed to keep in his head. Good thing, too – it likely would not have been so well received.

Albus threw in a handful of floo powder with more force than was strictly necessary.  
“Department of Magical Law Enforcement – Emergency!”  
The floo lit up with green flame, and the face of a young witch appeared in the fire.  
“DMLE – is this an emergency?”  
“Yes ma’am. My mo –“ Albus choked. He could feel his throat closing off, and the tears starting to fill his eyes. He couldn’t say it. He had to say it. “My mother has been killed.”  
“Killed? By – natural, or –“  
“Magical – by magical means. Please –“  
“Your name?”  
“Albus Dumbledore.”  
The witch paused for a moment, then muttered, “Dumbledore…” She looked back up at Albus.  
“Very well, Mr. Dumbledore - we’ll send someone right through. Stand back, please.”

Albus took a step back. He looked over to his favorite chair, but the boy had gone. Bathilda was still there, though. She put her arm around him. She had always been – tactile. Albus wasn’t sure if he felt comforted or not. Nothing would be comforting right now, probably. Would he even recognize comfort, if it were offered?  
He could hear Madam Bagshot sniffling, but he would not look at her – he did not want to see the tears that were surely streaming down her face.  
“Oh, Albus. How awful. I’m so, so sorry.”

He was spared having to reply by the man emerging from the floo, wearing the robes of an Auror. He stepped forward, wand raised. A second man stepped out, then a third. So many? Why did they need so many?

“Are you Albus Dumbledore?” the first man asked.  
“Y-yes sir.”  
“And your mother is -?”  
“Dead, sir.”  
“Mr. Dumbledore. Please let me finish before answering my questions. I was going to ask your mother’s name, and the location of her body.”  
“Kendra Dumbledore. She’s – next door, sir.”  
“Why is the body next door?”  
“We live next door, sir.”  
“Without a floo?”  
“Correct.”

The Auror narrowed his eyes at Albus.  
“But your family is – magical.”  
“That’s right, sir.”  
The Auror took a deep breath, and let out a barrage of questions: “What can I expect next door? Are there any dangers? What killed your mother? Is it still active?”  
“It should be safe for you all to enter and to examine the body. My sister was responsible, but –“  
“Your sister?!”  
“Please, sir – it wasn’t her fault – she doesn’t have control of her magic.”  
“Accidental magic then. She is how old?”  
“14, sir.”  
“14!! That is far too old to claim ignorance.”  
“She – there was an incident. She was damaged. She lost control of her magic.”

In his first sign of true emotion, the Auror reached up and ran his hand through his hair. He looked older; no – more tired than he had when he came through the floo.  
“Dumbledore, yes? This – incident. It didn’t happen to be about 8 years ago? Didn’t happen to involve two Muggle boys in a Muggle village east of Leeds?”  
Albus closed his eyes. So much hiding. So much exhaustion. All for what? For his mother to die? For his sister to be taken away anyway? All the secrets unraveling in an evening. He opened his eyes, but could not lift them. He nodded silently, as he studied the hearth rug - delicate green vines with tiny flowers in gold and red twined over a rich black background. He wondered if he could dive head first into the rug, how far he would fall before the vines caught him, if they would wrap around him snugly, as if he were in a cocoon, completely hidden from the world.

He finally looked up. Albus brushed up against the Auror's mind. Mistake. He had been on guard already, and had picked up on the intrusion. He raised one eyebrow in a challenge, and Albus narrowed his eyes back. He was not about to appear intimidated. But he did note for later that his Legilimency still needed some work, if he wanted to be stealthy about it.

“Alright. We will have more questions for you later.  
“Jeffers, you stay here by the floo with…your name, Ma’am?”  
“Madam Bagshot. And you are…?”  
“In charge of this case, is what I am.”  
Bathilda’s nostrils flared and her jaw tightened. But she said nothing.  
“Weasley – with me. …Well, Dumbledore – get on with it. Show us to the front door. Take us to your house.”

Albus hesitated. “Sir? Sir, my brother –“  
“Merlin. There’s more? Do we need to notify your brother?”  
“No sir. He is next door. I – I didn’t trust him not to – cover this up. I have him and my sister restrained next door.”  
“Restrained?”  
“Body-bind curse.”  
“That isn’t likely to hold much longer.” The Auror muttered.  
“No, sir. My sister is – likely to need to be sedated, for everyone’s safety. I would suggest…”  
“I will do the suggesting Dumbledore. Just take us to the house. Unless there is anyone else there that I need to be told about.”  
“No sir. Just Ariana and Abe and the chickens in the garden sir.”  
“The chickens in the… for all the gods! How about the plants? Any particularly ferocious rosemary? Chickens in the garden, indeed.” The still nameless Auror shook his head, and pushed Albus out the door, followed by Auror Weasley.

Albus wished he did not have to go back – to see the angry eyes of his paralyzed brother, the confused eyes of Ariana. Did Ariana even understand what she had done? Did she even know that Mother was dead? Circe. Was he going to have to see his mother’s lifeless body? Again? Could he just point the Aurors in that direction, and wait in his room? Likely not.  
And then, for the first time that evening, it occurred to Albus that he was just old enough to be the head of the house now. For the first time, he would be the one making decisions for the family – for himself. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Two hours later, Albus was alone in the house, making his way up to his bedroom. 

His sister had been taken to St. Mungo’s for evaluation. Albus wasn’t even required to sign an authorization, since it was part of a criminal investigation.  
Aberforth was in custody, after having attacked both Albus and the Aurors, in an attempt to keep them from taking Ariana. As Auror Weasley dragged him out the door, Abe yelled at Albus, “This is all your fault!”  
Albus figured it was less his fault than anybody’s.  
Auror Epworth finally gave his name, offering his condolences after officially declaring his mother dead.

“We have everything we need here,” he said. “I’m releasing the body for burial.”  
He must have been able to tell that Albus had no idea what to do with that information, or perhaps he just assumed that a seventeen year old boy was not particularly experienced in these matters, because soon after Epworth had left, Madam Bagshot was in the kitchen, flitting around the body and asking Albus questions about where his father had been buried (Azkaban), whether his mother “had secured a plot” (doubtful), and did Albus have any preference about coffins and the like (no.) Then she had placed a stasis charm on his mother’s body, and floated her into her bedroom.  
“We will make all of the preparations tomorrow,” she said. “Do you feel comfortable sleeping here alone tonight?”  
It was all too obvious that what she really meant was, ‘in the same house with your mother’s body.’

Albus assumed that what she also meant was, “If you don’t want to stay the night here, you may stay at my house.”  
For the first time since accompanying the Aurors to his house, Albus thought of the mysterious blonde in Madam Bagshot’s house. The boy whose name he still did not know. The boy who had disappeared – why, he wondered?  
He felt too raw to meet someone new. Especially someone so intriguing. If he’d even want to meet Albus now that he knew about his crazy family.

“I’ll be fine, Mada – umm – Bathilda. Thank you. Tonight has been - - I just need some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning?”  
“I’ll be here at 8:30, if that’s not too early.”  
“No, that’s fine.”

And so, Madam Bagshot had left too, after confirming that, no, Albus did not need for her to make him tea before she left. 

He stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, looking towards the closed door of his mother’s room, then towards Ariana’s room. Aberforth – he did not want to think about Aberforth.  
Albus entered his own room and closed the door. He laughed hollowly. With no one home, he didn’t need to close the door for privacy. Still it felt – safer somehow. Familiar. Anyway, he didn’t want to have to see the hall. This way, he could pretend that there was no house, no yard, no Dumbledore family – just him and his room.

As he began undressing for bed, his eyes were caught by light coming from Bathilda’s attic window. There was never anyone in the attic at night. Albus turned towards the window, one sock on his foot, and another in his hand. There, in the attic, was the boy from earlier. He was unbuttoning his shirt. He was astonishing – even more beautiful than had been evident from the few looks Albus had gotten in earlier. Now there was nothing to distract him from admiring the boy. His eyes roamed, taking in every detail, imagining tracing his fingers along the now exposed collar bone - imagining he was the one undressing the boy in the attic. The shirt dropped to the floor, and Albus gasped. 

The boy turned and met Albus’ eyes. (Could he have heard? The windows were open, but still…) The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, and he winked. He unbuttoned the top button of his trousers. Then the lights in the attic went out and Albus could see the boy no more.  
He – seemed not to have minded Albus looking at him. He seemed to enjoy it – and seemed to enjoy teasing him, too. Still, he had turned off the light… Who was he? And why could Albus not stop thinking about him? 

That night, Albus lay in bed, still thinking about the mysterious blonde with the pale skin and the sharp nose and the high cheekbones… It seemed wrong to him to be thinking about touching himself, with his dead mother in the next room. He had struggled for years with the way his roommates and some of the Quidditch players made him feel – it couldn’t mean anything – could it? But tonight, for the first time in his life, Albus could not ignore that someone else’s body did something to him – made him feel things in his own body. And this someone was male. 

He tried to keep his hands off himself for what seemed like forever. It wasn’t that he hadn’t made himself come before – he had, of course he had – but never while thinking about something beyond the sensations his own hands were producing. He kicked off his pants, knowing that this time he would not be able to keep himself from visualizing a person. A particular person – the boy sleeping not 40 feet away. 

Or dare he hope the boy was awake and thinking of him, too? Dare he imagine he was not alone in the room – that his hands were not his own at all?

As troubled as he had been beforehand, when he finished his mind was strangely empty, and his body was more relaxed. His bed was too low to see the Bagshot house from his bed, but nonetheless he rolled towards the side window and fell asleep. If he dreamed of death and hearthrugs and a nameless young man removing his shirt, Albus did not remember when he woke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think - and what you want to see - I can't guarantee I'll go in the direction you're hoping, but I will certainly take it into account.


	3. A Change of Scenery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bathilda properly introduces Albus to Gellert, the morning after Kendra's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gellert, it seems, does not do 'slow burn.'

Chapter 2  
June 1899 (continued)

Bathilda was still talking as they came to her front door.  
“I am so glad that you agreed to come over for the day, Albus. I hate to think of you alone over there!”  
Albus was always _alone_ in his house, one way or the other. The difficulty wasn’t the loneliness (though that was certainly unpleasant), but that there was no place where he could escape what had happened there yesterday. Especially now that he and Bathilda had spent the morning in his house ‘making preparations,’ as she said.

“A change of scenery is called for,” she went on.  
A change of scenery?  
Albus’ mind leapt to the boy he had watched through the window last night. And how telling that that was his first thought upon hearing the word “scenery.” In less than a minute, he would not be scenery anymore, but a person he could speak to. A person with a name! Albus felt his cheeks flush.  
Could he bear to see him after last night? Perhaps it would be better if the boy were out, busy somewhere else. Perhaps Albus should go home and make his own tea. Perhaps…

Too late. Bathilda was opening the door to the parlour.  
There he was. Wearing a rich blue suit under dove gray robes. Dear Merlin. The colours suited him perfectly. He imagined undressing him. It was too easy. He already knew what the boy looked like under those robes. Or at least…  
“Ah! Gellert!” Bathilda walked over to the blonde, “You are awake!”  
Gellert! What a perfect name. He could not possibly have had any other name. Albus silently mouthed, “Gellert,” before he realized what he was doing.

Gellert stood, “Aunt Bathilda!” He kissed her on the cheek, and then stood back, “Of course I am awake! It is already ten in the morning.”  
Bathilda swatted his arm and laughed. “Yes, well, yesterday you were in bed until eleven!”  
Gellert smirked. “Hmm. The night before last, I was up very late reading. Last night, however,” and at this, he looked over his aunt’s shoulder and met Albus’ eyes, “Last night I was happily exhausted. I slept quite well and had the most _entertaining_ dreams.”  
Albus’ eyes widened. Surely he wasn’t – in front of his aunt! But she didn’t seem to notice. Somehow he was relieved, excited, and anxious all at once. The combination had him feeling light-headed.

Bathilda stepped towards Albus.  
“Albus! Come meet my nephew Gellert Grindelwald, from Germany. I am sure you will have much to talk about. Gellert, this is Albus Dumbledore. He just graduated from Hogwarts two weeks ago.”  
Albus bowed towards Gellert, and managed to choke out, “Grindelwald.”  
Gellert bowed, “Mr. Dumbledore. A pleasure.” He stood and smiled mischievously. “I hope that you will call me Gellert. If it is not premature to say so, I anticipate that we will become great friends.”  
“Certainly, umm, Gellert. And you must call me Al- umm… Albus. Please. I mean… Yes.”  
“Delightful, Alum Albus! Please have a seat with me.”

Bathilda’s lips quirked, but then she seemed to remember herself and narrowed her eyes.  
“Gellert…” Bathilda warned. “You be nice to Albus!”  
“Oh, I intend to, Aunt Bathilda. Very nice. I do not wish to upset either one of you. Perhaps I should be careful not to… _tease him_ so much.”  
“That’s alright,” said Albus, “I don’t mind you teasing me.”  
Gellert raised an eyebrow, and Albus blushed. He hadn’t meant it like that. Then again, he could have meant it like that. Gah! How unsettling!  
Albus moved to stand near the fireplace, but remembering the night before, he thought better of it. He leaned against a bookcase instead. Did he look casual? He hoped he looked casual.

“I’ll let you boys settle in while I make you tea. Did you have breakfast, Gellert?”  
“Aunt Bathilda, I will be fine with just tea.”  
“You’ll waste away, is what you will do. I will whip up some scones.”  
“Thank you, Auntie.”

When Bathilda left, Gellert sat on the sofa, and gestured as if to invite Albus to sit with him. Albus blushed and shook his head and remained standing. Gods! Enough blushing already!

“So, Albus, my Aunt tells me you have published articles in a transfiguration journal?”  
“Yes. I have written about runes as well, though I expect that your Aunt doesn’t subscribe to _Uncovering Runes_.”  
There. That sounded normal. He was talking to Gellert in a perfectly normal way.  
“Runes I understand. But transfiguration?” Gellert rolled his eyes. “How is there anything more to say? Once you have overcome the mental block that makes changing a twig into a rose different from changing a matchstick into a needle…”  
“But transfiguration is so much more than that! There is the Animagus transformation –“  
“Which is also well understood, and not so difficult to achieve.”  
“Well understood?!” Albus noticed that Gellert was grinning. Why was he grinning?  
“We still do not understand why people have only one form, or whether it is possible for one’s form to change, as one’s patronus might change.”  
Albus was also not sure that most wizards would agree that the Animagus form was ‘not so difficult to achieve,’ but he would leave that for now.  
“So that is two articles. How many are in each issue of this journal? How often is it published?”

“Obviously you couldn’t fill a journal with articles on the Animagus transformation. But that is not all there is to investigate. How much detail, for instance, can one achieve when the original material is not detailed? What are the limits? A deck of cards can be transformed into a stone – can a stone be transformed into a deck of cards? Does size make a difference? For instance –“  
Gellert raised an eyebrow.  
“I didn’t mean… Bugger me.”  
Gellert laughed. “Is that an invitation?”  
“You great arse!"  
"Thank you! Myself, I have often thought I have a great arse."  
Albus growled in frustration. "You’re enjoying this!”  
“I am. I truly am. You look so wild when you are offended. And how flustered you get when you are floundering your way into accidental – innuendos? It is too tempting to –“  
“To insult me? To bait me?”  
“Oh no. Never to insult you. To bait you? Perhaps. But no, I was going to say -”

Bathilda appeared in the door. Albus felt vaguely guilty, as if she had caught him doing something he shouldn’t have been. She seemed distracted, and that made him feel worse. Did she suspect him? Had he disappointed her?  
“I’m terribly sorry, boys. I hadn’t noticed that I have no cream, and little butter. I am going to have to pop out to do some shopping. I should be back in no time.”  
“Please don’t trouble yourself, Aunt Bathilda,” Gellert assured her, “you are under no obligation to serve us.”  
“It is no trouble young man. I enjoy taking care of you, whether your parents –“  
Albus’ eyes widened. What about his parents?  
“My apologies. You are a delight, Gellert, as is Albus. I have nothing I’d rather do this morning than make scones for you boys.”  
Gellert smiled. “As you wish, Auntie. Thank you.”

The crack of her disapparition was still in Albus’ ears when Gellert was upon him. How had he gotten across the room from the sofa so quickly?  
Gellert’s hand was on his neck, stroking him just under his ear. His lips were so near that Albus could feel his breath on his face.  
“You drive me mad, Albus Dumbledore. I want to keep looking at you, listening to you talk, but I can’t concentrate around you. I need to touch you, to – ”  
Albus couldn’t look away from Gellert’s eyes. They were so intense… But – 

“We shouldn’t – your aunt –“  
“Will be gone for half an hour or more.”  
“But –“  
“Albus.“  
Gellert pressed his lips to Albus’, and Albus’ chest exploded. He was all sensation. He needed more, he needed – how had his hand gotten in Gellert’s hair? How had his other hand worked its way into Gellert’s robe, wrapping around his back and pressing him closer?  
Albus groaned and pulled away, just to reassure himself that this was real – that Gellert was real, and somehow wanted this – wanted him.

Gellert looked dazed, eyes wide and lips parted. Then, as if waking up, he slowly smiled, his already familiar, maddeningly puckish smile, and kissed Albus on the tip of his nose. He drew back and looked Albus in the eyes, before moving back in to suck gently on his jawline, on his neck. Then he drew Albus’ earlobe into his mouth, and if that didn’t make Albus moan…  
“Mmm,” whispered Gellert into his lately awakened ear. “How could it be that I have found you? So gorgeous,” Gellert combed Albus’ hair back gently with his fingers, “so intelligent,” he lightly brushed his thumb over Albus’ cheek, “so – responsive.” On the word ‘responsive,’ Gellert grabbed Albus’ arse and squeezed it lightly, causing Albus to squeak.  
“I have never met anyone like you, Albus Dumbledore, and I am not letting you go.”  
And then Gellert’s tongue was in Albus’ mouth, and his hands were everywhere. Albus could hardly breathe, but he could not bring himself to care.

When Gellert finally pulled away, he scoffed, “Transfiguration. With your intelligence and passion, Albus, you can do so much more than publish journal articles. Together, you and I, we would be unstoppable.”  
Albus liked the sound of ‘Together, you and I,’ and he was – not uninterested – in being ‘unstoppable.’ He felt dizzy, as he had the first time he had tried a Muggle cigarette. He reached out to grab Gellert’s robe and reel him back in, but he was interrupted by the crack announcing Bathilda’s return.  
He straightened his robe. Gellert reached out to smooth Albus’ hair, but Albus batted him away. Gellert looked vaguely hurt, but Albus was afraid of what would happen if Bathilda saw them touching each other.  
But Bathilda did not look in on them at all, instead calling in from the kitchen, “I’m home, boys! It is too near lunch for scones. I will bake them to eat this afternoon instead. But I will bring you tea shortly.”

Gellert sat on the sofa and reached for Albus. This time, Albus sat with him. Gellert grasped his hand. “Spend the afternoon with me? Please stay?”  
Albus smiled. “Of course. Read with me?”

When Bathilda brought in the tea, she found them side by side on the sofa, with their heads bent over a book on the history of wizardry in the court of the Holy Roman Empire.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

That afternoon, they set out for a walk over the hill towards the Windershaw estate, with a basket of Bathilda’s scones.  
Albus’ eyes kept drifting towards the blond hair on Gellert’s arms.  
He had persuaded Gellert to leave his robe and jacket at home, so that they would look more like Muggles as they took the path out of town. (“They don’t have cooling charms, Gellert!”) When he had rolled up his sleeves, Albus’ stomach felt light. He chided himself, “As if you have never seen a bare forearm before!”  
But as he walked, he could not keep his eyes off Gellert’s bared flesh. He wanted to grasp that arm and pull him in for another kiss. He wanted to lightly stroke that arm, to lick it, to –  
“I should have said earlier – my condolences on the loss of your mother.”

His mother. Right. What was wrong with him? How could he be feeling this way, when his mother had been alive this time yesterday, and was no longer alive now?  
No longer alive now. His mother with the soft brown hair and the gentle laugh. She had never complained about how she was trapped in the house with Ariana, no longer free to pursue – what had she even been interested in? Albus didn’t know, and now he would never know, unless – did Aberforth know? Could he ask him? Or would that be admitting to how terrible a son he had been? He had been such a terrible son.  
He sobbed.

“Oh!” exclaimed Gellert. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t have even been there in the room last night. I knew I shouldn’t have, it was so personal. That is why I left, so that I wouldn’t be hearing things that were not mine to hear – but before I left, I did hear that your mother was killed, and didn’t die in some ordinary way, and even in the other room I could hear you telling the Aurors that your sister killed her, and I saw them dragging away your brother, and gods, I shouldn’t know any of that either. I should have cast a privacy charm over the parlour. What you must think of me!   
"But – stop making this about you, Gellert – not everything is about you – fuck. I just wanted you to know -“

Even through his tears, Albus couldn’t help but smile to see Gellert wrong-footed. It was endearing.

“Wanted me to know what?” he asked softly.  
“I – to know that you can tell me. Or not tell me. But I hope you will tell me. Because you seem to be someone who doesn’t tell much to anyone, and – I want to be the person that you tell.”  
Albus let out a deep breath. What was there to tell?  
“Later?”  
Gellert’s face fell, but he nodded. “Later.”

Then one side of his mouth quirked up. “So what _do_ you want to tell me about yourself, Albus Dumbledore?”  
Albus thought a moment. “What do you want to know?”  
“Everything.”  
Everything. Albus felt like there wasn’t _anything_. Or at least, nothing that wasn’t either boring or dangerous. Nothing in between, nothing simply _interesting._

“My birthday is in August…”  
Gellert rolled his eyes. “Something real, Dumbledore.” Before Albus could interrupt, Gellert held up a hand, “I have no doubt that your birthday is indeed in August. By ‘real’ I meant to say something – risky. Something that tells me about what makes you you. Something that makes you different from the hundreds of other wizards also born in August.” 

Albus took a deep breath.  
“I’ve moved a lot. Starting when I was ten, I’ve never lived in the same village for more than two years. It felt like there was nothing – stable, nothing constant in my life. And now my mother – I realize that my mother was always there –“  
Albus thought of his mother’s sparkling blue eyes, her soft and patient smile. He sobbed, and Gellert pulled him close. “Liebling…”  
Albus sniffed. Gods. He was going to get snot on Gellert’s vest. He started to pull away, but Gellert held him more tightly. As if reading his mind, Gellert told Albus, “There’s nothing you can do to my clothing that a scourgify won’t fix.”  
Albus considered that setting them on fire would not be fixed by a scourgify, but he appreciated the sentiment. He nuzzled into Gellert’s shoulder. “Now that I’ve lost her, I wonder what else I have to lose. What else I won’t know I have until it is gone.” 

They stood there quietly for a while. But it was not a comfortable silence. It was as if they were each waiting for the other to say something particular. As if neither felt it was their turn to speak.  
Gellert broke the silence. “Is this a talent you have? Distancing yourself from your feelings by making them philosophical?" 

Albus pulled away completely this time, offended. “You said to say something real! I am being serious with you!”  
Gellert reached for Albus’ hand, but Albus stepped to the side. Gellert sighed.  
“I know you are, Liebling. I understand that this is a very real fear for you. That perhaps you cannot see your own life clearly, or cannot appreciate it. That your life will be a cascade of regrets. Good. You are right to ponder this. It is necessary to be philosophical. But it is also good to feel now – to let yourself be sad for this one tragedy as it is happening to you, without instead moving straight to worry for the future. You say you did not appreciate your mother when you had her? Your grief for her you have now.”  
“Appreciate my grief?” Albus asked disdainfully.  
“Appreciate it? No. But allow it. Please, cry on my shoulder remembering your mother. Yes, cry on my shoulder for the future, too – but do not deny yourself tears for the present.” 

Albus stepped closer and took Gellert’s hand. He still felt a bit wary, but he did not want to argue. He allowed Gellert to pull him even closer, to put his arm around his shoulders, and as Gellert’s warmth enveloped him, his last reservations melted away. He leaned his head against Gellert’s shoulder. Albus liked that Gellert was just a bit taller than him. He felt safe, like nothing would be more terrible than he could bear. 

He felt ready to sit on a hillside and eat a scone. 


	4. Deny Me Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this is from the point of view of Albus, so - this might not fairly or accurately depict other folks' thoughts and motives

Chapter 3  
June 1899 (continued)

Albus waited for his brother in the receiving area of the DMLE. Abe had been in a cell for three days, and this morning, Albus finally got the call he had been dreading – Aberforth Dumbledore was being released into his custody, by virtue of his role as the new head of the Dumbledore household. 

The witch at the reception desk had offered for him to wait in an interview room. “More private,” she said. Albus, who had become a keen observer of what went unsaid, noted that “more private” was not at all the same as “private.” Whether this suspicion of the spaces between words was due to his upbringing or to his seven years in Slytherin house, he could not say. But he knew his brother, and it seemed likely that, if Abe first met him in an interview room, he would mistake mostly private for private, and get the two of them into trouble before he’d stepped foot out of the Ministry. Albus was determined to keep his brother decidedly in the public eye until they could talk (fight) in true, total privacy.

Sure enough, as Aberforth rounded the corner, with an Auror’s hand gripping his shoulder firmly, he growled. “Albus…” It sounded surprisingly deep and gravely for a 15 year old. Aberforth’s voice had changed the summer before, and on more than one occasion Albus had stood outside Abe’s room, listening to him practicing sounding menacing. At the time it had struck him as somehow both funny and creepy. It was not funny now. 

“Not here, Abe.”  
Albus silently signed for his brother’s release, and began walking out the door. He knew that Abe would follow. He walked swiftly towards the floos, so that Aberforth couldn’t draw up even with him. When they got to the floo, Albus called for the Leaky Cauldron, forcibly grabbing his brother and pulling him in with him.

Aberforth, unprepared for the trip and a little woozy from his time in custody (he was a teenage boy, and needed far more food than the DMLE customarily provided their prisoners), stumbled on his way out of the floo.  
He yanked on Albus’ arm, and whispered violently, “Why are we here and not in Godric’s Hollow?”

“We need to talk about a few things, Abe.”  
“I’ll say we do. Let’s start with, where’s Ariana?”  
Albus waved his brother off in order to order some food at the bar, and then made his way to a table in the back.  
“We can see Ariana tomorrow.”  
“You turned her in to the Aurors, Al! After all that our parents did…”  
“Yes, and look where they are now. Mother was killed by her own daughter, and Father died in prison.”

Aberforth’s jaw tightened, and his hand gripped the table.  
“I would remind you that you were just released from DMLE custody with multiple charges of assault on your record - charges that were deferred, _not_ dropped. And you still have the trace on you.”  
Aberforth sneered. “I doubt anyone would be able to tell the difference, in a pub full of wizards.”  
“Who among them has any motive? It would not be wise to release your anger on me here where there are so many to see you.”

“I should have…”  
“What? Vanished Mother’s body? And then obliviated me? Then what? What exactly was your plan for continuing to keep Ariana hidden when there was a dead woman in our house?”  
“We could have asserted that she died of natural causes…”  
“No, we could not have! Mother was young, and not ill. If her death was known to anyone but us, there would have been an inquest, at the very least.”  
They quieted as the food arrived. Albus nodded to the bartender.

“Al – I… I never would have obliviated you. You know that.”  
“I know no such thing! I know that you think of it often enough –“  
“You are so stupid! You and your legilimency – thinking you know everything. Just because something is ‘in my head’ doesn’t mean I’d ever act on it! Sure, I fantasized about you leaving the family, forgetting all about us – but only when I was very angry at you. I – you’re my brother, Albus! You’ll always be my brother. I –“ Tears were streaming down Aberforth’s face. He hit the table with his fist, drawing the attention of several patrons.  
Albus sighed. Did Aberforth truly believe that he would never obliviate him? Even so, who knew what his brother might do in a fit of rage? His siblings were dangerous people, both of them. Dangerous and twisted. 

Once the eyes of the patrons were back to their own meals and conversations, Albus continued, “You should know that Madame Bagshot is expecting to hear from me every day. In person. And that I have several memory vials in my personal vault to be delivered to Law Enforcement upon my disappearance or death.”  
Aberforth shook his head, “You don’t trust me at all.” Then he looked up, anger in his eyes, “You’re the untrustworthy one! Take me to Ariana!”  
Albus smiled sadly. “Right now she is heavily sedated. She has been asking for you, and it would be good for both of you if you were to visit. But not this afternoon. The healers wanted us to wait until you have been briefed on her condition. By 10am tomorrow, the sedation will have lifted enough for the two of you to talk.”  
Abe stood. “St. Mungo’s, then.”  
“Abe. Don’t go. Please. They won’t let you see her. You’re underage. You can only go with me.”  
Abe continued standing, but made no move to turn away. 

“When are you going to take me somewhere private, so I can punch you like you deserve?”  
Albus willed his face blank. “I am going to finish my pudding, and then we can head to our rooms upstairs. Once I have the privacy wards up, you may yell at me as much as you wish. But be advised that I have my wand, and as I am of age, I am allowed to use it.”  
Aberforth did not say anything more about staying here rather than going home, which surprised Albus. Nor did he say something snide about Albus' priorities. Instead he held out his hand for the key, and Albus gave it to him.  
“First floor. Third door on the left.”  
Albus watched Aberforth walk heavily towards the stairs, as if each stone in the floor had personally offended him.  
He was glad to be of age to apparate – he did not want to bring Aberforth into Madam Bagshot’s home when he was behaving this way.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The evening at the Leaky was… difficult, but Aberforth managed to hold himself together at St. Mungo’s, holding Ariana’s hand and making her laugh. He had always been so good with her. She almost seemed a normal girl when Abe was attending to her.

Afterwards, Albus apparated them into their back garden. He showed Aberforth to their mother’s room, and gave him some time alone with her body. Then Madam Bagshot came over, and the three of them finalized the funeral arrangements.  
As she was leaving, she told Albus, “I know this is a difficult time, dear, but Gellert has been worried about you. Would you like me to tell him anything for you?”  
“Tell him – tell him I’ll be fine. Tell him that I have some correspondence to attend to today. I’ll see him tomorrow at the funeral.”

After she left, Aberforth narrowed his eyes at Albus. “Gellert?”  
“Oh. Umm – he’s Madam Bagshot’s nephew – er – great-nephew, rather. He just moved here? From Germany? And, umm, he’s my age, so –“  
Gods! When had he ever been so inarticulate? Circe. That wasn’t suspicious at all.  
“So – while I was in jail, and Mother’s dead body was in the house, you were off making a new friend?”  
“It’s not like that!” If Abe only knew. It was exactly like that, and more. “He’s living in Madam Bagshot’s house, and she has been helping with Mother’s funeral, so it would have been strange if she had not introduced us.”  
Aberforth opened his mouth to say more, but he swiftly closed it again. Instead he punched the wall next to the fireplace, and stomped away, slamming his door for good measure. 

Albus waited a moment, then lightly ran up the stairs, went into his room, and opened the window. Gellert’s window was open too. Albus felt almost giddy. Had Gellert understood his message?  
Sure enough, a bird of folded parchment flew through his window almost immediately. He unfolded it.  
'You want to engage in some – correspondence with me, Liebhaber?'

Albus blushed and exhaled heavily. A few simple words shouldn’t make him so excited. Then again, there was nothing _simple_ about Gellert having already claimed Albus as his 'lover.' A more experienced… lover… might have been frightened by how quickly his emotions were running away with him. But Albus had never felt this way before, and he was frightened only of being discovered. After these three days, he trusted Gellert completely. He trusted Gellert's mouth and hands, and the sounds that Gellert made when Albus kissed him. He trusted his own feelings: the dizziness he felt when the sunlight reflected off Gellert’s hair, and the warmth that spread from his groin to his belly to his chest at the barest of touches. When they were not alone and had to restrain themselves, simply brushing past Gellert felt provocative.

The words on the page began to disappear. It was an enchantment of Gellert’s, so that no one might find and read their words to each other.  
'I always want to – correspond – with you, Gellert.'  
He sent the bird on its way. The little bird was busy for some time, as they teased one another – knowing that they could not see or touch one another, even at such a tantalizingly close distance. But they were young, and could not hold off for long, and the bird stopped her travels for a short time while their hands were too occupied to write what they wanted to say to one another. So instead they imagined what the other would say, and they imagined things that they had not yet done with one another. They had not even seen each other’s cocks yet – what were they waiting for? In this moment, Albus could think of no good reason for why they had not given each other everything.

As Albus lay on the floor, come on his hands and his belly, his trousers around his ankles, the parchment bird came and settled on his chest.  
'Good?'  
Albus chuckled incredulously – Good?!  
'Amazing.'  
'It could have been better. You could have been here. With me.'  
'I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.'  
'You could be feeling my mouth. Apparate to me? I know you can.'  
'I can’t! Aberforth might come to see me, and find I’ve gone.'  
'Will he, though? Is he one to sulk in his room for a long time? Or one to confront you quickly after he has gone away?'  
'He shut himself in his room more than 40 minutes ago. Arriving at my door now would hardly count as quickly.'  
'Albus. Do you want to see me?'  
'You know I do, Gellert.'  
'Then come to me, Liebhaber.'

Albus sighed. He waited for Gellert’s words to disappear, wrote some of his own, and refolded the bird. But he did not release it. Instead, he held it tight as he turned on the spot.  
In Gellert’s room, he handed him the bird, and Gellert unfolded it: 'I can deny you nothing.'  
Gellert threw back his head and laughed. He tossed the parchment aside, and then recklessly lifted Albus, as if they were not almost the same size.  
Albus wrapped his legs around Gellert’s hips and kissed him. As they kissed, Gellert staggered to the bed and tumbled down inelegantly, with Albus still in his arms. He whispered in Albus’ ear, “Then deny me nothing, Love. I would have you deny me nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - if it seems to you that our boys are moving a bit quickly...  
> In canon, Albus and Gellert go from "Nice to meet you" to "Let's make a blood pact!" in eight weeks. 
> 
> While there's a lot of ways in which I'm going off-piste, I am adopting the canon idea that their intimacy develops crazy fast.


	5. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he has Albus, Gellert’s insecurities come out to play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I live on AO3 now? Yes, apparently so.

Chapter 4  
June 1899 (continued)

The mid-afternoon sun streamed in the window, warming Gellert’s already too-warm attic room. Albus lay against Gellert, feeling grateful for cooling charms. How did Muggles have sex in such weather?  
“What are you thinking about, Liebhaber?”  
Albus told him.  
Gellert barked out a laugh. “You aren’t supposed to tell me what you are actually thinking about! You are supposed to say you are thinking about me!”  
Albus smiled, the smug smile of a good student who already knew the answer to a question. “With anyone else, perhaps. But I am not with anyone else. I am with you, and you always want to know what I am actually thinking about.”  
Gellert gave a happy shout and pounced on Albus. “And what are you thinking now?”  
Albus’ eyes grew wide. “I am thinking that you are the very best kind of scary.”  
“Mmm…” Gellert’s mouth descended on Albus. He put his mouth everywhere until, for one blinding moment, Albus could no longer think, but only feel. 

When they were once more at rest, Albus’ head on Gellert’s chest, his arm draped over Gellert’s body, Albus sighed an unhappy sounding sigh.  
“Albus -" Gellert groaned impatiently, "How many times do I have to go down on you before that lovely brain of yours _shuts off_?"  
"I'm sorry Gellert. I just – I’m so happy. I want us to be like this forever.”  
“Mmmm. Yes, me too.”  
“But… soon you are going to leave, and I will be alone here, and – “  
“Why would I leave you? You are everything to me! I will never leave you!”  
“You can’t say that!” Albus realized that he had shouted. He didn’t want to sound angry. He tried again. 

“You are going back to Durmstrang in the fall and –“  
“No.”  
The hardness in Gellert’s voice confused Albus. He tensed, but waited silently.  
“No, I am not going back to Durmstrang.”

This wouldn’t do at all. Albus would miss Gellert terribly, but he couldn’t allow him to give up his future just because it was painful to be separated from one another for a few months.  
“But- no! You have to finish your schooling! I want you to stay, of course, it will be agonizing to be without you, but if you don’t take your final exams…”  
“Leave it, Albus.”

Gellert’s stern command to ‘leave it’ carved a cold hollow place in Albus’ chest. It felt wrong to feel more alone laying against Gellert. He considered getting up and sitting in the chair by the fireplace – wrapping himself in a blanket and drawing his knees up to his chest. But he couldn’t imagine that would feel any better. Maybe nothing would make him feel better. Maybe only Gellert could make him feel better, since Gellert’s words were what had made him feel worse. 

So Albus waited. Just laid his head on Gellert’s chest and counted his breaths and tried to anchor himself in the way Gellert’s skin felt under his fingertips, the intoxicating smell of his body.  
The smell of the room, on the other hand, was overwhelming. It would be impossible to miss what they had been up to all day, on the basis of smell alone. Good thing Bathilda wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. There was plenty of time for cleansing charms.  
Might as well clean the room right now. Given this – argument? Can you argue without talking? Given this whatever it was, it seemed unlikely they’d be using the bed for anything but sulking before she got back.  
What was happening? Why did talking about going back to school cause Gellert to…?  
Right. Thinking again. Don’t think – feel. Observe: the dimming light in the room, the breeze blowing a sheet of parchment off the desk, the slam of a door.

The slam of a door! Albus sat up suddenly.

“It’s fine, Albus. It is just Aberforth, leaving your house.”  
“How do you know that?’  
“I have a trace on him.” Gellert said it so matter-of-factly. Unbelievable.  
Albus stood and roared, “Grindelwald!! Why do YOU have a TRACE on my BROTHER?!!”  
He _sounded_ threatening enough, but it was hard to look imposing when stark naked. He looked for a sheet to wrap himself in, but all of the bedding had been kicked to the other side of the bed.  
He stood behind a chair. There. He was partly covered at least.  
“I asked you a question!“

Gellert threw a pillow at Albus. “You idiot! I worry about you, alright? And it seemed wrong to put a trace on _you_ , but I thought if I knew where your brother was at least – I don’t know – I don’t trust him. It seemed important to know where he is and what he is up to in order to keep you safe.”  
Albus softened. “It is not your job to keep me safe, Gellert.”  
“I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you. You say it’s not my job? Ok. Acknowledge at least that I have a vested interest!”  
“Fine. I acknowledge your interest in my well-being. Now please remove the trace on my brother.”  
“I will think about it.”  
“Gellert!”  
“ _I will think about it._ You can’t just get me to do whatever you want by shouting my name at me!”

Albus couldn’t resist. He unleashed a wicked smile that he had lately learned from Gellert. “I don’t know. It has worked several times today already.”  
Gellert flopped back onto the bed, dramatically laying his wrist against his forehead. “Alas! I have corrupted my beautiful, innocent boy, and he will never be the same as he was before!”  
Albus laughed. “Thank Merlin for that.”  
He began to move back towards the bed, but then remembered how much was still unspoken between them. His whole life, he had been navigating around vast forbidden territories, and he was tired of it. He had thought that he and Gellert could share anything. Dropping the Durmstrang matter without at least establishing that it would be discussed later – that would be the first step towards a relationship of the sort he had had with his mother. The idea was intolerable.

“Gellert. We don’t have to talk about Durmstrang now. But we have to talk about it. I won’t have you keeping secrets from me. I can’t – I can’t live like that anymore. I need to have one person with whom there are no secrets. I want that person to be you.”  
“Will you tell me about your sister?”  
“This is not a quid pro quo situation, Gellert. You need to tell me the truth even when you don’t get anything out of it.”  
“Will you?”  
Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You know. About. My sister.”  
“I know that she killed your mother, and that she no longer lives with you. I’m sure that that is not all there is to know.”

Albus came out from behind the chair and pulled on his trousers.  
“Fine. Her magic is out of control. She was attacked by Muggle children eight years ago, and she became dangerously unstable. My parents hid her from the world, because they were afraid to get treatment for her for some reason. So instead of getting her help, my mother kept my sister with her. And two weeks ago, the predictable happened. Now my sister is on the spell damage ward at St. Mungo’s, as she should have been from the beginning.”  
Albus sat on the bed. “Ariana seems unlikely to recover. It is impossible to know if she would have been treatable if she had been taken to St. Mungo’s earlier, but it is certain that my mother would still be alive.” He was hurt, and could not resist adding, “Good enough, Grindelwald?”

Gellert didn’t reply, instead asking, “And your father?”  
Albus wanted to scream, to growl. He closed his eyes, and took a few calming breaths.  
“Quit stalling, Gellert.”

Gellert groaned and rolled away from Albus. He got out of bed, pulled on his trousers, and began pacing. His bare chest was distracting. His collarbones were distracting. His hipbones made Albus shiver, and though they were hidden just under the waist of his trousers, Albus knew exactly where they were, exactly how they felt in his mouth. Just a few buttons away...  
Gah! How could Gellert still be so attractive when he was being so infuriating?! How was Albus going to stay firm with him? And what wouldn't Gellert have said about _that_ question, at another time, if Albus had voiced it out loud?  
Great. Now he was carrying Gellert's voice around with him in his head.  
Gellert turned. His naked back was no less distracting. His shoulder blades, the valley of his spine (Gellert loved to be licked there.) Those trousers hugged his arse perfectly. If Gellert didn’t start talking soon, Albus was not going to be able to focus on anything but his body. He was beginning to think that Gellert was doing it on purpose.  
Fortunately, Gellert began speaking before Albus became too hard to see straight.

“I am not returning to Durmstrang. I will not be allowed to return. I have been expelled.”  
Albus was filled with questions – chief among them being what Gellert could possibly have done to be expelled – Albus didn’t think anyone had been expelled from Hogwarts in the entire seven years he had attended. But he did not ask – he did not want Gellert to shut down again.  
“Ok –“  
“Aunt Bathilda took me to your Ministry to take your NEWTS, so I will have credentials of a sort. Not that I think I will need them, but it seemed to make her feel better. So. You don’t have to worry about my final exams. I am not going back to school – that’s _final_. And I have taken a number of _exams_.”

Albus very much wanted to know which exams Gellert had taken, but again – not the time.  
Instead, he decided to throw Gellert a life-line – to return them to their earlier post-lovemaking conversation.  
“So – you really aren’t leaving then? You are done with school, and I am done with school, and nothing need separate us?”

Gellert sat at his desk with his back to Albus, and dropped his head into his hands.  
“Albus – I know education is important to you – are you sure that you are not angry at me? Do you honestly want to be with someone who never finished school? Will you be able to respect me?”

Oh! That was what Gellert’s reaction had been about earlier. He wasn’t truly angry, but afraid – afraid that Albus would leave him when he found out. Albus hadn’t known that Gellert was afraid of anything. But of course he was. Everyone is afraid of something. It was sweet that what Gellert was afraid of was losing Albus – but it was sad, too – there was nothing Gellert could do that would make Albus not want him anymore. Was that true? It must be true. In any case, he couldn't think of anything at the moment that Gellert could do that he wouldn't forgive. And this expulsion - there was nothing that needed to be forgiven about that! That was beyond unimportant. How could Gellert have thought that such a small thing would be enough to drive Albus away?

Gellert turned from the desk and looked warily at Albus.  
“Albus? You’re doing it again.”  
Albus didn't care about whether or not Gellert graduated! Gellert was amazing! How could he reassure him? How could he make him see? How–  
Gellert stood. “Albus! Come back? Please?”  
“Gellert! Gods, I am so sorry. I was –“  
Gellert laughed nervously, “Stuck in your head again? I know.”  
He chewed his lip, then cracked a weak joke. “Trying to figure out how to gracefully leave? I think you will find that apparition…”

“You – you silly little garden gnome!”  
“Garden gnome?” Gellert whispered, incredulously.  
“ _Of course_ I want to be with you!”  
Albus began moving slowly towards Gellert.  
“Look at how perfect you are. Not just your hands and your chest and your hips and your long fingers and your mouth (sweet Circe, your mouth!), but your smile, and your laugh. Your intelligence, your insight, your tenderness, your enthusiasm, your mischief – there is nothing about you I would change. Not. One. Single. Thing.”  
And as soon as he had pronounced the word ‘Thing,’ Albus’ mouth met Gellert’s in a brief tender kiss. He pulled back enough to see a tear on Gellert’s cheek, and he caught it with his mouth. 

“I love you,” insisted Albus.  
Gellert’s eyes grew wide – almost frightened looking. Suddenly, Albus realized that neither of them had said so before.  
As if afraid that Albus might try to take it back, Gellert gently trapped Albus’ lower lip between his teeth and pulled. He kissed Albus like he was his last meal.  
When they finally broke apart, Gellert gasped, “I love you too, Albus Dumbledore. I love you. I love you.”

Albus smiled widely and danced out of Gellert’s reach.  
“Excellent! Now that that’s settled, let’s eat something. I’m starving!”  
Gellert couldn’t help but laugh. “So, what you are saying is, ‘I need you desperately, but perhaps not so much as I need bread and cheese’?”  
Albus laughed too. “That sounds about right. Though I wouldn’t say no to some pickles as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEA, I promise 
> 
> October 2019:  
> The note below is out of date - I do still plan to take them through 1945 - but... not in 60 chapters by a long shot. I am breaking this into parts, and plan for Part 2 to end in 1912, so... we will be taking our time getting to 1945.
> 
> Original Note:  
> You may have noticed that I have a chapter count now -  
> In spite of the fact that here we are still in June 1899, I have a complete outline that takes AD/GG through 1945, and I am committed to getting them there in less than 60 chapters. (I know it says 48 now, but let's be honest - these longer fics have a tendency to expand.)


	6. No More Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Albus?”  
> “Hmm?”  
> “I am giving you a gift for my birthday.”  
> “That’s – unusual.”  
> “I want you to know why I left – why I was expelled from Durmstrang.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JKRowling owns Harry Potter, etc, and I am making no money off of this endeavor.
> 
> And on that subject - I am going to therefore be needing to spend the next week or so generating some actual saleable material. 
> 
> So I am going to be taking a break from writing for AO3 - if I can manage it - I am very much at the "you can have my Grindeldore when you pry it from my cold dead hands" stage.
> 
> In any case, y'all will be taken care of, as I have four more chapters in the can after this one.

Chapter 5  
July 1899

Aberforth came up behind Albus as he stood at the kitchen counter.  
“What’s all this, Albus?”  
“Oh! Aberforth! It’s Gellert’s birthday today, and I thought, since I can’t afford a gift, I would make him a picnic.”  
“Of course it’s for Gellert. First time you’ve made food in a week. What is so special about Gellert anyway? WE never eat together. It seems like I never see you anymore!”  
Albus turned and sighed. “And what would we do, Abe, if we stayed at home together? Just eat together in silence?”  
“We could – work in the garden.”  
“I have never worked in the garden, Abe. You know this.”  
“Yes, but, now that Mother’s gone… it is too much for me to keep up with alone.”

That – might be nice, actually.  
“Good idea. I’ll work with you in the garden tomorrow.” Albus went on, “You’re right, Abe. I haven’t been around enough – I’m sorry. I guess – it’s just weird being in the house without Mother here. But today is Gellert’s birthday, and he’s expecting me, okay?”

True. And also totally leaving out the answer to ‘what’s so special about Gellert.’

“I miss Mother too,” Aberforth conceded, “but we’re going to have to get used to it.”  
Albus noticed that they had both carefully avoided mentioning that their mother wasn’t the only person who was missing from the house.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

There was a clearing in the woods just north of Godric’s Hollow – perfect for a private picnic.  
In spite of Gellert’s pleas, Albus had a strict ‘clothes stay on outdoors’ policy. Gellert had tested the boundaries of this policy persistently, so that it now had several corollaries: no removing certain appendages from one’s trousers (‘But Albus! My trousers are still on!’), no hands under clothes – that is, no touching skin that was covered by clothing (‘Not even here? What about here?’), no unbuttoning one’s shirt all the way and claiming, ‘But it is still on!’ 

But the clearing was private enough for Albus to feel comfortable with… everything else. He thought. Depending on what new trouble Gellert could try to get them into.  
Sure enough, this was to be that day that Gellert would inspire Albus to add, ‘No spells which simulate oral sex.’ Though only after they had both gotten to come, because after all, it hadn’t been a rule yet when Gellert had first cast the spell. And he had gone to such trouble creating it.

There was a stream nearby, and Albus thought they should go wading. Gellert pretended to take offense at how cold the water was, and began kicking water at Albus, which led to a splash war. It was a perfect day.  
They returned to their picnic blanket, laid side by side, and looked up at the leaves moving in the breeze, dancing on the ends of swaying branches.  
“Happy Birthday, Gellert,” Albus said quietly, contentedly, sleepily.

“Albus?”  
“Hmm?”  
“I am giving you a gift for my birthday.”  
“That’s – unusual.”  
“I want you to know why I left – why I was _expelled_ from Durmstrang.”  
This woke Albus up. He rolled on his side and snuggled in closer to Gellert.  
“Ok.”

“I – well, there are three reasons. There is the reason that the school said they were expelling me, what I think is the real reason, and what my parents think is the real reason.”  
“Let’s start with what you think is the real reason.”  
“Durmstrang doesn’t enroll Muggleborns. And I think that this is wrong.”  
Albus sat up. “Really? So where do Muggleborns in Durmstrang’s region learn about magic then?”  
“I don’t know. What if they don’t?”  
“How could they not? That’s dangerous!”  
“It is! And just think – if Hogwarts didn’t accept Muggleborns, your mother would have never met your father, and so you never would have been born, and then I would never have gotten to meet you!”  
Albus laughed softly. “Yes, but you didn’t know me when you were at Durmstrang, so you had other reasons in the beginning.”

“I did. I do.” Albus allowed Gellert time to gather his thoughts.  
“Before the Statute of Secrecy, Muggles and Magicals lived together. They got along together.”  
“Not all of them! There was the whole matter of the witch burnings!”  
“No – I think those happened because we had already started to hide. You can’t be superstitious about something that seems natural. And if the Magicals had been out in the open, they would have seemed natural. Ordinary.”

“It is well past time to end the Statute of Secrecy. It is a failed experiment.”  
The rapidity with which Gellert had jumped ahead startled Albus - it seemed that he had skipped several steps in his argument.  
“What do you mean – ‘failed experiment?’”  
“Take your sister, for example.”  
Albus gritted his teeth.  
“Must you?”  
“I’m sorry, Albus. She is the readiest example to hand.  
“If the Muggles in your village had already known all about magic, if there were anti-discrimination laws in place to prevent Muggles from attacking Magicals on the basis of their magic, then your sister would not have been attacked, and all the long chain of events stretching from that moment would likewise not have taken place.”

Albus sighed. “Or – we could have been even more separate from the Muggle world, and we would not have been in a place where the children could have seen her. Why not do that?”  
“They have already done that, you know, in America. They are totally separate from the Muggle world. Magicals are not allowed to live or work amongst Muggles. They are not allowed to marry Muggles. Any Muggle who learns of magic must be obliviated. Any Magical who exposes a Muggle to magic is imprisoned.”  
“When I said more separate, I didn’t mean… that level of separation seems impossible! How could that work? Muggleborns, for instance…”  
“Are taken from their parents at the first sign of accidental magic and given to magical parents.”  
“And their own parents?”  
“Obliviated, of course. The children are obliviated, too, to remove their memories of the Muggle world.”  
“And Squibs?”  
“Squibs may choose to stay in the Magical world. But if they leave, they are obliviated, as well.”

Albus had unfurled himself by now, and propped himself up on one elbow.  
“They’re splitting up families without their consent - that’s terrible!”  
“I think so, too. But I understand how it happened. There are only two courses of action that will protect other children from what happened to your sister – complete repression, or liberation. I think the Americans made the wrong choice. The cowardly choice.”

Albus hadn’t heard about the American system before, but now that he had, it seemed barbaric. But Durmstrang was not in America, and as far as Albus knew, Gellert had never been to America, so –  
“I’m sorry Gellert, but this has to do with your expulsion from Durmstrang, how?”  
“I implied that they were doing the same thing as the Americans – that the only way to have ‘no Muggleborns’ was to kidnap them, obliviate their parents, and adopt them out to pureblood families.”  
“They would expel you for implying that?”  
“Well – that, and I may have – that is, to be truthful, I _did_ actually say that it was either that, or Muggleborns were being systematically killed all over Central and Eastern Europe.”  
“Gellert! You didn’t!”  
“I did. I said that the _best-case_ scenario was covert large-scale kidnapping, and that either way, Durmstrang itself was implicated.”  
“Sweet Merlin. Still. I think you could have gotten away with that at Hogwarts. They are big believers in being able to ask questions.”  
“Maybe so, but they probably would not have tolerated my attempt to orchestrate a rally demanding the overthrow of The Statute of Secrecy.”  
Albus fell back onto the blanket. “No, that probably would have been enough to get you expelled. Even at Hogwarts.”

Gellert persisted. “But you agree with me, don’t you? The Statute – it is just holding us back! Wizards are not able to enjoy so much of what this world has to offer! And we are not able to share our wisdom and our abilities with the Muggles, either. Without us, they could destroy the world…”  
Albus interrupted. “Destroy the world, Gellert? That is a bit dramatic, even for you.”  
Gellert sat up. “Fine. You don’t believe me now. But you will see what damage they can do. And you will wish that you had done something about it!”  
Albus got up too. He arranged himself behind Gellert, with his legs propped up on either side of him, and he wrapped his arms around him. “I do believe you, Angel.”  
Angel? Where had that come from? But it was a Muggle endearment, so perhaps appropriate for the moment.

“I do believe that Muggles are dangerous. How could I not? But that is why I can’t agree with you – yet. There are so many of them! In Britain, there are 3000 Muggles for every Witch or Wizard. That is simply too many! We have lived separately from them for so long – they would be confused and afraid and lash out in violence. I will concede that I am powerful, but I don’t think that I could take on 3000 Muggles. 20, maybe even 50, but not 3000.”  
Gellert was silent. “3000?”  
“3000.”

“And you have this number ready to hand because –“  
“It was not too hard for me to deduce from your reading material, Gellert. So often, I find you with a book on history or politics, but not just any history. History of the cooperation between Muggles and Wizards before the institution of the Statute, transcripts of the debates regarding the Statute in the various wizarding legislatures of the world, accounts of the various ‘witch trials’, Muggle newspapers…”  
“Ok, ok. No need to rub my nose in my transparency.”  
“I wouldn’t say that you’re transparent, Gellert. I think that I’m the only one who has noticed. And Bathilda as well, probably.”  
Gellert laughed bitterly. “Well that is a comfort, seeing as you two are the only people I interact with at all.”  
Albus squeezed him tighter and laughed more openly. “That’s not true, Love! You see the barman at the Muggle pub at least once a week.”  
“Martin.”  
“Martin. I don’t think Martin suspects.”  
Gellert laughed at that, and struggled out of Albus’ arms. He turned around and pushed Albus onto his back, straddling him.

“Don’t you want to tell me the rest?” Albus asked with a smile.  
“Oh, I think that’s enough for one day, don’t you?”  
“Plotting the overthrow of the Wizarding world? Yes, I would say we have covered a great deal today.”  
Gellert bent down to kiss Albus, and Albus let himself forget about Gellert’s troubling assertion that the Muggles would destroy the world. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The next evening, after a long day of gardening with Aberforth, Albus lay in bed with Gellert, as had become their habit.  
“Gellert?”  
“Albus?” Gellert echoed his tone perfectly.  
“Will you tell me why your parents think that you were thrown out of Durmstrang?”  
Gellert was silent for so long that it was becoming uncomfortable for Albus.  
“You’re not going to like it, Dumbledore.”  
“Dumbledore, eh? That bad?”

Gellert didn’t answer right away, so Albus pulled him closer, and raised up his arm, so that he could wrap it around Gellert while he laid his head on Albus. Gellert lay there for several minutes, matching his breathing to Albus’. Albus patiently held him, enjoying Gellert’s warmth and weight. He loved Gellert so much it made his chest hurt. He liked it when Gellert was cocky and smug and playful, but this Gellert, the scared and hurting Gellert, was a Gellert only he got to see. He would lay awake holding him all night, if that was what he needed.

“So – my parents heard a rumor that I had been caught at school ‘being intimate’ with another boy.”  
Albus felt like his heart had stopped. “And – had you?” He asked quietly.  
Gellert was silent for a few beats. “I wasn’t _caught_.”  
Albus didn’t have anything to say. He had questions, but he was too afraid to ask.  
“It – I was careful – I thought. I was just – curious, I guess. And there were boys who were interested –“  
“Boys, plural? Gellert. How many? How often?”  
“It doesn’t matter, Albus.”  
“It matters to me!”  
“No – listen. You don’t want to know.”

“I thought we were – I thought I was –“ Albus couldn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t want Gellert to notice that he had started crying.  
He felt so stupid. He had just assumed that Gellert was hardly more experienced than he was, but how could that be true? It was unlike Albus to disregard such obvious evidence. Gellert had been so confident, so forward. Albus had told himself that that was just Gellert’s personality, but no. It was because he, unlike Albus, knew what he was doing.

“Shh. Liebling. You are the only one for me.”  
“Clearly not.”  
Gellert pulled out from under Albus’ arm and propped himself up on one arm. He reached out, turned Albus’ face towards him, and looked into his eyes.  
“Albus, look at me. There are so many things I’ve done with you that I have done with no one else. But _everything_ I have done with you has been like doing it for the first time. You are everything to me. Everything. You are not an experiment, you are not a curiosity, you are the one that I love. I love you, Albus. I have never loved _anyone_ before.”  
Albus didn’t respond. He wanted to believe Gellert, but he felt uncertain. This had all moved so fast. What if Gellert only thought he loved him? What if he changed his mind?

That, and he was trying not to picture Gellert with other people and failing.

“I can’t change who I was before I met you. You have my heart now and forever afterwards. I need that to be enough for you.”  
“I – it will be Gellert. I think. This is just hard for me.”  
“I understand. If you had ever been with anyone else, I would have been gutted. I am sorry to have hurt you, Love. So sorry.”  
“I know.” 

Albus thought a moment. “And your parents think this is why you were expelled from school because - ?”  
“Because it was reason enough for them to expel me from their lives. When they asked if I had been – involved – with another boy, I did not deny it. And now I am not welcome back at home. I have been disinherited. My younger brother is now the heir and the future head of the House of Grindelwald. Technically speaking, I suppose I shouldn’t be using the name Grindelwald, but I figure they can’t stop me. And it sounds better than Gellert Bagshot.”  
“How about Gellert Dumbledore?”  
“Hmm. I don’t think the Wizarding World has caught up to us on that one, Liebhaber.”  
“No, not the Muggle world, either.”

They lay there a bit longer, listening to the sound of the breeze in the trees drifting through Gellert's open window.  
“And what did Durmstrang claim was their reason for expelling you?”  
Gellert laughed. “You are full of the difficult questions tonight! Are you sure you want to know?”  
“No. But you have to tell me sometime, and I’d like to get it over with.”  
“Okay then.” Gellert took a deep breath and let it out. “Dark magic.”  
“Dark magic?”  
“That’s what they said, but It’s a load of bollocks, because Durmstrang is famous for dark magic.”

“So – darker magic, then?”  
Gellert laughed. “Darker magic. Yes. That’s what they claimed. More technical than ‘darker’, but yes.”  
Albus wasn’t sure how he felt about this. He knew that Gellert was reckless sometimes, but not – evil. Albus just needed more information, and then he would understand why Gellert thought it was a good idea. This would all be fine.  
“And was it – darker?”  
“That depends – how do you feel about blood magic?”

“Gods, Gellert! Blood magic is illegal in England.”  
“Albus, Love, it most certainly is not. Marriage rites, burial rites, blood adoptions, ward renewals… there are many instances of blood magic that are intimately woven through the culture of all magical beings – including the wizards and witches of England.”  
“But the kind of blood magic you were doing…”  
“Okay, yes. The magic I was doing would probably be – okay, would definitely be illegal in England. But not in – the country where Durmstrang is located.”

Albus didn’t have the energy to pursue this any further. Or more truthfully, he suspected he just didn’t want to know what Gellert had gotten himself into. Not tonight.  
Blood magic. Illegal magic.  
Maybe they could talk about it another time. In the light of day. Luckily, Gellert had opened an avenue to a somewhat lighter topic of conversation.

“Everything else you will tell me, and you won’t tell me where you went to school?”  
“I can’t, Albus. I’m bound. If I try to say it, nothing comes out. And before you try it, it is blocked from Legilimens as well.”  
“You know I wouldn’t do that to you without your permission, Gellert.”  
“I know, I just –“  
“You were worried I wouldn’t be able to control myself?”  
Gellert frowned and looked away. “Something like that.”

Albus wondered if Gellert would be able to control himself, if he were a Legilimens. Wait – was he? Had he been reading him before now? He had given no sign of it.  
Why was he even considering this now? Didn’t he trust Gellert? He always had before. Was it because of the revelation that he had been using dark magic? Or was it the suggestion that _Gellert_ didn’t fully trust _him_?  
Wait. Why didn’t Gellert trust him?  
Albus tried to reassure himself. Of course Gellert was afraid to trust him – his own parents had turned on him. It would just take time.

“I love you, Gellert. I want you to choose to share yourself with me. I don’t want to force it.”  
“I love you too, Albus.” He yawned. “Can we go to sleep now? Please?”  
“Mmm… No.”  
“No?” Gellert sounded amused.  
Albus reached up and pushed Gellert’s shoulder, toppling him backwards. “Definitely not.”  
He kissed Gellert’s mouth and his neck. Then he vanished Gellert's shirt so that he could reach the skin just below his collar bone. He moved lower and lower until Gellert moaned. “Yes, Albus, please…”

Gellert had risked so much tonight – Albus wanted to remind both himself and Gellert that he was the one who made Gellert feel cherished, worshipped – the one who made Gellert moan and beg, the one who Gellert trusted with his body. Only after he had lost himself in post-orgasmic muzzy-headedness would Albus allow Gellert to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there - I’d love to know you are reading this fic and enjoying it - if you have gotten this far and like it, then the kudos button is an easy way to let me know.
> 
> I mean, like all authors on this site, I’m a complete whore for comments, but lots of people don’t feel comfortable with that - and truly, you simply hitting the kudos button makes my day 😘


	7. Come away with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aberforth isn't going to like this... but then, Aberforth has not liked anything that's happened this summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how much longer this chapter is than usual. It got away from me.
> 
> Heads up: Aberforth is going to say some cruel (read: homophobic) things to Albus about his relationship with Gellert in this chapter, and Albus is going to reflect on the dangers of being gay in this time period and the advisability of being closeted. So - if this is triggering for you, message me, and I can offer an expurgated chapter summary.

Chapter 6  
July 1899 (continued)

Albus knew that Aberforth wanted him to be at home more often. But Aberforth also didn’t approve of Gellert. So as much as Albus would have liked to invite Gellert to his house sometimes, he knew that would be a bad idea. Aberforth couldn’t stand the sight of Gellert. How much more tense would things become between them if Aberforth overheard one of Gellert’s impromptu speeches about Muggles, or about the Statute of Secrecy, or about how Albus needed to focus his energy and his intelligence on ‘The Muggle Problem?’  
Gellert was impulsive, irrepressible, careless of others’ sensibilities. Aberforth was given to sudden violent outbursts. Albus tried to keep the two separated as much as possible.

Albus had begun keeping a schedule – he was with Gellert from just after dinner until just before lunch, and he spent lunch through dinner at home with Aberforth. It wasn’t a perfect system – Gellert had a bad habit of interrupting Aberforth’s time by sending an owl with his latest insights, rather than saving it for just a few hours later, and Aberforth was keenly aware he was getting less hours than Gellert, but overall, Albus thought it was working out.

Neither Gellert nor Aberforth agreed.

That morning, Gellert and Albus were sitting across from one another at the small desk in Gellert’s room. Albus was dressed for the day, but Gellert was still in his dressing gown (“Easy access, Love.”)  
“I have been thinking,” began Gellert.

Albus had begun to understand that, when Gellert said ‘I have been thinking,’ what he really meant was, ‘It has only just now occurred to me…’  
Albus smiled fondly. “Yes, Angel?”  
“I don’t think that this 3000 to 1 ratio applies worldwide. I am thinking that maybe some countries have more wizards, and others have less.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yes, and furthermore I am thinking that there are some places where Muggles are more comfortable with the idea of magic than they are here. Or in the rest of Europe.”

Albus decided to humor Gellert for a little longer. “And have you given thought to where that might be?”  
“Oh, say, India. Haiti, French Sudan, Romania. Brazil, maybe? I think the Gypsies are probably an openly mixed community. And I suspect that in Constantinople, the House of Osman employs wizards knowingly.”  
Of course Romania was in Europe, but that was not the point of greatest concern. Much more relevant was - “Do you have any data to support this? Or is this just a feeling you have?”  
“That is not fair, Albus! I read as much as you do.”  
“That is not an answer, Liebling.”  
“Oh, you speak German now, do you?”  
Albus laughed, “I hadn’t even noticed – that just came out on its own! Just the bits I pick up from you, I guess. I would like to learn German, though. It seems unfair that we speak English all the time – that we don’t ever speak the language that you are more comfortable with.”  
Gellert shook his head, “That we can talk about another time. Now it is you who is changing the subject.”

Albus _was_ changing the subject. Gellert did not always take well to having his enthusiasms challenged, but Albus could not be satisfied with any answer that was clearly entirely speculative (‘Oh, say…’) It was obvious that Gellert really had no idea whether muggle to wizard ratios were different elsewhere, much less which specific countries might be home to these postulated larger Wizarding communities.  
“I feel that we need more data.”  
“There _isn’t_ more data, Albus. I haven’t been able to find relevant information for most countries – and I have not just been looking in Aunt Bathilda’s library. I think that we would need to travel, get a feel for the Muggle world.”  
“Go abroad?”  
“You are the one always telling me, what is it? ‘Don’t jump on the first hippogriff you see?’ I am conceding here that you are right. I don’t know enough about the Muggle world. I say that they are inferior, afraid – that they need guidance in order not to destroy themselves and us. But I… need more data. As you yourself said.”

Albus’ mind was awhirl. Gellert knew him far too well. He had walked right into that one. And yet, he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than see the world with Gellert.  
“Go abroad – in the Muggle world?”  
“In the Muggle world, and in the Wizarding world. As long as we’re traveling, it couldn’t hurt for us to find allies in other Wizarding communities. But primarily living in Muggle areas, and traveling the Muggle way. Yes.”  
“That’s brilliant!”

“Yes? You would come with me?”  
“Of course I would come with you, arse! I’m not very well going to watch you go without me! Where would we go first?”  
“Where have you always wanted to go, mein Schatz? I have been all over Europe. I think you have not been off this island? You choose.”

Gellert knew very well that he had in fact been off the island. He’d been to Egypt once, for two days, for a conference.  
_Been to Egypt_ … Albus had not once left the school where the conference was held – he had been chaperoned by a professor who was constitutionally opposed to ‘idle sightseeing’.  
Ok, Gellert had a point.  
“Well, we’d want it to be somewhere that was promising for your research…”  
“Don’t think, Liebling. Feel. There are Muggles all over the world. We have things we could learn anywhere. Where do you want to go?”

“Paris.”  
“Paris?”  
“Yes. And Mallorca. And Prague. And – “  
Gellert laughed. “I think that is enough to start with.”  
He continued, muttering to himself, “Paris. That is not so far. Good. We have just enough time to prepare in order to be there for his birthday.”

“For my birthday? That would be incredible! Oh.” Albus sat back down. “Aberforth won’t be back to Hogwarts by then. We can’t – we should wait.”  
Gellert groaned.  
“Why should we wait? Liebling! He never wants you to do anything you want to do. He wants you to stay here and waste your life feeling guilty forever. Besides, he is going to have to separate from you eventually. It would be a terrible inconvenience for you to come home for Yule. Or for Spring Break, or perhaps even for the next Summer Break.”

This was a surprise.  
“How long are you expecting us to be gone, Gellert? We won’t be back before December?”  
“Of course not! You have told me yourself that traveling the Muggle way takes ages. And there are so many places we need to see! We are wanting to change the world – not just Europe. The British Muggle newspapers tell of events in Africa, India, America – what if Muggles everywhere are able to learn things from afar so quickly? If the Statute of Secrecy is broken here, will it immediately be broken everywhere? You say we need data. It is up to us to gather that data. Everywhere. It could take us years!”

Years.  
Albus thought about what Gellert was proposing. It sounded so exciting – the things they could learn, the places they could go, sharing experiences just the two of them. Everything new he learned – everything he thought, felt, saw, heard – he would be sharing it all with the most brilliant man he had ever met. With his best friend and lover.  
But at the same time – he had responsibilities. He was the Head of the Dumbledore family, now. Ariana was still in St. Mungo’s. He was the only family Aberforth had – where would Abe spend holidays, if not with Albus?  
And in any case, how could they begin to afford it? The Dumbledores had little money, and Gellert had been disowned. And between himself and Gellert, the only languages they had were English, French, German, and Hungarian. And Old Norse and Latin, but Albus thought those two probably shouldn’t count. They would need to learn Arabic at least. Spanish, maybe Hindi…There was no way this was possible.

But oh! If it were possible! After all, what was there for him here? A mastery? He was already publishing papers in professional journals. Would he just languish in Godric’s Hollow and write, waiting lonely months on end just so he could be at the house when Aberforth returned on break from Hogwarts? He adored Bathilda, but the life she lived would never satisfy him. He needed to be somewhere busy, meeting new people!  
Of course, he could always get a job at the Ministry… where he would have to take orders from short-sighted people who were mindlessly enforcing outdated laws.  
And how could he ask Gellert to stay in Godric’s Hollow indefinitely? It would be like snuffing a flame. 

“…cousin in Baghdad!”  
“Mmhmm?”  
“Albus. You weren’t listening to me at all. Were you.” It was clear that this was not a question.  
Gellert was usually much better at telling when Albus was wandering away from reality into the depths of his own head. The fact that Gellert had talked his way through Albus’ abstraction was a sure sign that he was even more enthusiastic than usual for this new idea.

“Umm – something about Baghdad?”  
Gellert laughed. “It can wait. You are a swirl of thoughts right now, it seems, and I see no reason to repeat myself only for you to miss it all again.”  
“Arse.” Albus threw a wad of parchment, and it bounced off of Gellert’s forehead.  
“You love my arse,” Gellert replied.

Albus did love Gellert’s arse. He loved Gellert’s everything. But somehow he had let himself forget that he had only known Gellert for… 6 weeks, now? Was he going to leave the country with a boy he didn’t even really know?  
Albus rubbed his eyes. No, that was Abe talking. He knew Gellert, and he knew he would never be happy without him.  
“Is my arse giving you a headache, now?”  
Albus barely registered that Gellert was speaking. Something about arse… ache? That didn’t seem relevant. 

Heartache?  
Yes – that was what he was feeling. He should not be having to make such a choice. He couldn’t just leave Aberforth – he wasn’t yet of age. But how long was he meant to wait before starting his life? Abe turned 17 in a year and a half, but would it be fair to leave before he graduated? Before he started his independent life, however long that would take?  
If Mother had just made the right decision about Ariana in the first place, then she would be here to take care of Aberforth. They had been her responsibility, and she was the one who had failed them! Not Albus! This was not his fault, none of it! It was so unfair.  
“Albus. Albus!”

“Gellert?”  
“You’re crying, Love.”  
“No, I’m – yes, I am.” He took the handkerchief that Gellert was holding out to him and wiped his face.  
“So – when are we going? And how are we paying for it?”

Gellert looked at him warily. “Oh, no, we are not – no, no, no. First, I need to know what you were thinking about when you started crying. I don’t want to drag you off somewhere you don’t want to go.”  
“I want to go, of course I want to. Desperately. I just wish that Mother was here to look after Abe. I know he expects me to take her place, but I can’t wait around here and – be Mother – for the next three years. I know I can’t. But Abe won’t understand. It isn’t fair to any of us.”

Gellert stood up and walked to the fireplace. “You are sure that you won’t let Aberforth talk you out of it? He hates me. He’s jealous I think.”  
Albus grimaced. “Don’t underestimate Abe – it’s not that simple. He’s jealous of you, sure. But he is also angry that we met at the same time that Mother died, and he also distrusts you – he says you smell like wickedness – and…”  
Gellert turned, his eyes wide. “He said that? That I smell like _wickedness_?”  
Albus frowned. “Yes?” Come to think of it, that had been a very odd thing for Abe to say. He was usually more concrete in his accusations. Did he imagine that wickedness had an actual smell?

Gellert rolled his eyes. “Does Aberforth really need someone to look after him? He is in school almost all year.”  
“I was wondering that myself. He is not of age, but he is only rarely away from school. Headmaster Black allows some students to stay over summer break – I think I’ll write to him to see if it would be possible to send Aberforth back to school early. That seems the logical choice, since we have no family.”  
“You could ask Aunt Bathilda to keep him until school starts.”  
“No, Abe doesn’t have any friends in town, really, and his only memories here are bad ones. And Bathilda is close with me, and she is your aunt, both of which qualities would annoy Abe to no end. I think that he would just as soon never hear about either of us again, once I ‘betray him’ by leaving. But I think Bathilda would be a lovely choice to keep track of Ariana’s care while we’re away. Do you think she would? It’s all paid for – there’s a special fund at St. Mungo’s to pay for the care of Witches and Wizards with Muggle-inflicted injuries. But someone will need to be available to visit her, and to make decisions about her care.”  
“Auntie loves you. And she cared for your mother. She would help any way she can.” 

Albus thought about selling the house – so that he could use his half of the proceeds to help pay for the trip. But he didn’t say anything about that yet – there was so much to think about and to research. If Gellert was thinking of leaving in a month or less, then there might not be time to sell the house so quickly.

“Gods – this is really happening!” Gellert smiled broadly. “Paris should be no trouble at all. I know where to find lodgings there. I’m not sure about Mallorca… But Prague! I have a friend we can stay with in Prague!”  
Albus frowned, and Gellert laughed and kissed his forehead. “Not a friend like that, Love. I promise. I will do all in my power to keep you from ever having to be in a room with anyone who has so much as touched me.”  
“You’d better. I have become quite good at wandless hexing.”  
“I hope never to find out.”

Gellert dropped into Albus’ lap.  
“Then again, I imagine it would be very exciting to see you unleash all your power – just – not on me, please. It is very sexy, your wandless magic.”  
Gellert moved to kiss Albus, just as the bell in the church tower began ringing.  
Albus’ head snapped towards the window – towards the back garden of his house.  
“Shit! That’s the noon bell! I was supposed to be home half an hour ago.”

Gellert looked up at the ceiling in martyred annoyance.  
“I imagine this means that you will not be wandlessly removing my clothing? Or wandlessly tying me to the bed?”  
“Gellert…”  
“Ok ok. Not even wandlessly igniting a fire in the fireplace?”  
“It is July.”  
“Wandless…Eeee!” Gellert squealed as Albus shot him with a wandless, wordless tickling hex. It was meant to make Gellert fall off his lap so he could leave, but instead Gellert was still firmly on his lap, thrashing and squirming. It seemed that using his own wandless magic had been enough to turn on Albus himself this time.

“Finite Incantem!” Albus released Gellert from the spell, but that only made matters worse. Gellert was now limply draped over Albus, both overstimulated and exhausted in a way that must have reminded him of sex, given the way he was now lazily sucking on Albus’ neck, the way he so often did in bed once they were both spent.  
Albus groaned. Perhaps another 30 minutes wouldn’t make so much of a difference.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

It made a difference. 

“Gods. Albus. It’s bad enough that you are late. At least do me the courtesy of not showing up reeking of sex.”  
“I – don’t – “  
“You do. You think I don’t know what you and Grindelwald get up to? It could not be more obvious.”  
“He’s a friend!”  
“You don’t have friends. And if you did, you wouldn’t look at them like you do Grindelwald.”

“You can call him Gellert.”  
“He hasn’t invited me to call him Gellert.”  
“That’s because you won’t tolerate being in the same room with him for long enough to get to know each other!”  
“You think this is my fault, Albus? He’s trying to come between us, to get me out of the way! He doesn’t want to share you with anyone – even your own brother!”

Albus felt uncomfortable with this accusation, given the conversation he and Gellert had been having not an hour ago. Aberforth was going to lose his mind when he found out about their plan to leave the country together. He couldn’t know. If he did, he would surely attack Gellert, and that would be a disaster. 

Abe took Albus’ silence as license to press on. “He’s just using you for sex. There’s still a chance for you to be normal.”  
Albus stopped breathing for a moment. Did Aberforth really just say - ? Albus knew that it wasn’t done, knew that he needed to hide the way he felt for Gellert, that people could be hateful about it. After all, the way Gellert’s parents had treated him…  
How could Albus have become so careless as to neglect a simple cleansing spell before leaving Gellert’s room? He and Gellert needed to be more careful.  
Was Aberforth the only one who had noticed? Was it because they were brothers? Or was Albus leaking his feelings for Gellert everywhere he went? What would it take to hide his feelings for Gellert from other people? He had thought he had already been doing that, but clearly not.  
When was the last time he had exposed anything that another might use as leverage against him? Not since before Father had been arrested. This could be dangerous. No. It had already become dangerous. What would Aberforth do with this information? 

Albus sighed dismissively. “I appreciate your concern, Abe. But let’s not talk about Gellert – It’s just you and me right now, so why don’t we make lunch, and then we can get going on whatever you had planned for the afternoon.”  
Aberforth narrowed his eyes, but then he nodded. “Fine. I am hungry after all, seeing as I had to wait for you.”  
“I’ll stay a bit later after dinner to make up for it.”  
“Don’t you dare! I’m meeting someone!”  
Albus nudged his brother with his shoulder and smiled, “No you’re not.”  
Aberforth laughed. “No. No I’m not. I’d like to sit with you after dinner. Maybe talk about my classes for next year?”  
Aberforth had never asked Albus for any kind of help with school. _This_ Albus could do. “I’d love to.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus almost might have enjoyed his time together with Aberforth after dinner, if it hadn’t been for Gellert’s owl.  
It tapped on the window five minutes after he and Abe finished cleaning up after dinner.  
“Seriously, Al? Your boyfriend can’t give us an hour?”  
“He’s not – never mind. I forgot to tell him. Just a minute.”

Albus opened the window and took the note.  
'Where are you?'  
He rolled his eyes.  
'I’m talking to Abe about school.'  
The owl was back less than a minute later.  
'You always come here right after dinner.'  
'How would you know we are done with dinner? Are you watching through the kitchen window?'  
'Maybe. Why are you still there?'

Albus turned to his brother.  
“I’m so sorry, Abe. I’ll get this straightened out, and then we’ll talk.”  
“Don’t mind me. I knew he’d find a way to interrupt us.”  
“You did not. Don’t be contrary. I’ll start timing our hour from the time he stops with this ridiculous owling.”

Albus turned to Gellert’s owl, and handed her a folded piece of parchment and gave her a bit of leftover shepherd’s pie. “I hope this is the last one, Isolde. Sorry about Gellert.”  
The poor owl’s master was truly insane.  
'You kept me an hour late this morning. I told Abe I’d make up for it by spending time with him after supper. I’ll be there in an hour.'  
'In 45 minutes, you mean. We’ve been owling for 15.'  
'Exactly. This is Abe’s time. Stop owling. I’ll be there before you know it.'  
Albus closed the kitchen window. Then he ran around the house closing all of the rest of the windows, swearing all the way. It didn’t matter what Albus did – if Gellert was this attentive – this possessive – in front of _anyone_ , it was going to be obvious how he felt about Albus. Maybe he was just doing this to needle Aberforth, but that didn’t make Albus’ life any easier, either. He was going to have a talk with Gellert when he saw him tonight!

Gellert’s owl returned, of course, and tapped on the window for the whole hour. Albus threw up a silencing charm around the living-room, so that they wouldn’t be disturbed. If he was leaving Britain soon, then Abe was going to get his due in the time they had left. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

When Albus tried to apparate into Gellert’s room, he discovered that Gellert had placed an anti-apparition ward against his arrival. He was lucky he didn’t splinch, bumping against the ward. He walked over to the house and knocked on the door.  
Bathilda answered. “Albus! How wonderful to see you!” She hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. “It seems you never visit me anymore – only Gellert. I know that the two of you are the same age, and have so many of the same interests, but I miss you, dear.”  
“I have missed you too, Bathilda.”

He hadn’t realized it until that moment, but it was true. He and Bathilda used to have the most wonderful conversations about transfiguration, and history, and… History! Maybe he and Gellert and Bathilda could all have tea together one evening, the way Albus used to do with Bathilda before Gellert came.  
“Would you like some tea, dear? I could call Gellert down to join us.”  
Bathilda must have had the very same thought.  
But it couldn’t be tonight – he had no idea what he was walking into.

“I would love to. But Gellert and I had a – disagreement earlier today, so I think I had better go and see him, try to patch things up. Can we say tomorrow night?”  
“Would you like me to go up and talk to him, dear? Whatever it is, it is not unforgivable. But it might help if you had someone to smooth your way?”  
“That’s kind of you, but if you were to go up there, he might come down just for the chance to be surly and unpleasant in front of an audience. Or worse, he might refuse to speak to you at all. He might even take it out on you.”  
'Or he might tell you any number of private things about us in his anger,' Albus thought to himself. 'Things which he won’t be able to take back. And I would never be able to bring myself to obliviate you.'

“It’s my mess to clean up.”  
“You two are as thick as thieves. I can’t imagine that it is as bad as you fear. But go on up.”

Albus paused only long enough to throw an apologetic look Bathilda’s way, then darted up the two flights of stairs and stood in front of Gellert’s door.  
“Gellert?”  
No answer. What if he had put up a silencing charm?  
Sure enough. Albus dismantled the silencing charm.  
“Gellert?” Still no answer.  
So Albus took down the charm that would turn him blue if he walked into Gellert’s room, and then the several locks on the door.  
He walked in and was met by a swarm of pixies, which he transfigured into flowers. He gathered them and tossed them out the window.

Gellert was lying on his back in the middle of his bed, limbs stretched out in almost a perfect X. His bedside table had been demolished. Albus reassembled it. Gellert demolished it again. Once again, Albus reassembled it, and Gellert demolished it. 

“Gellert.”  
Albus sat on the edge of the bed, and Gellert rolled away from him.  
“You are being absurd. What is this all about? It was an hour. Would you begrudge my brother a single hour?”  
Gellert didn’t answer.  
“Aberforth says that you are jealous of him…”  
That got a response.  
“Of course I am jealous of him! You are going to choose him over me! You couldn’t even say no to spending an extra hour with him – how are you going to leave? If you really wanted me…”

“No. You stop that line of thought right now. You know that I want you.”  
“But…”  
“There is no ‘but’ after that sentiment. I want you forever. I want you in my life and in my bed.”  
“Mostly we have been in my bed,” Gellert corrected him, petulantly.  
Albus laughed at this peek of the sassy Gellert he loved. “I want you, you foolish boy.”  
“I’m 17 now. I’m a man.”  
“Not when you work your poor owl to death trying to get my attention, you’re not. Not when you kick me out of your bedroom for spending an hour with my brother.”

Just then, Albus registered something that Gellert had said earlier – before ‘If you really wanted me.’ Gellert had said, ‘You are going to choose him over me.’

“That’s not why you were angry, is it? For you, it wasn’t just an hour. You don’t believe that I’m coming away with you.”  
Gellert didn’t answer.  
“It wasn’t because I’d rather be with him than with you. It was painful, but I felt like it was my duty.”  
“I know, but –“  
“But you think I’m going to stay in Godric’s Hollow because I feel that that’s my duty, too? Nothing’s going to stop me from going with you, Love. I spent the extra hour with Abe _because_ I know that I am leaving soon. I can’t afford to burn my bridge to him – he is the last family I have left. One day, it is going to make a difference to him that I made an effort not to short-change him in these last days, even when he was being an idiot. As for you, I’m going to be with you every minute of the day in a month or less. Until then, I need you to give me this.”  
Gellert turned back towards Albus.  
“You mean it – you’re going?”  
“I’m going. With you.”

Then Albus had an idea of a way to reassure Gellert.  
“First thing in the morning, I will send a letter to Headmaster Black, asking him to meet me this week, if possible. That way I can sign whatever needs signing in person. Expedite the process. I will need to use Isolde, though, if I may. And I will need to instruct her to bring the letter to your room. I don’t want Abe to know until it is too late for him to come after you.”  
Gellert scoffed. “You think I can’t defend myself?”  
“I know you can defend yourself. But I think that you will not be able to resist attacking someone who is attacking you. And Abe will want to kill you, I’m sure of it. Let’s just – spare us all the drama, please?”  
Gellert nodded. “Ok. No drama.”  
Albus smiled weakly. He’d believe that when he saw it. But he would settle for less drama. 

Speaking of which…  
“Your aunt invited us to come down for tea.”  
“Everyone wants to keep us from being alone together!” whined Gellert.  
Fortunately, Gellert had turned his back on Albus again, so he wasn’t able to see him rolling his eyes. Seriously, Gellert? At least petulance was better than rabid possessiveness and insecurity… probably.

“For your information, I told her we would join her tomorrow instead.”  
Gellert huffed. Albus was hard pressed to tell if that was a satisfied sound or not. Difficult to tell without seeing his face.  
“Gellert. Soon we won’t get to spend time with your aunt anymore – a person whom we both love dearly. You are always telling me to enjoy the now. Let’s spend some time with your aunt now – or tomorrow anyway – while we are still here with her.” 

Then Albus smiled. “In any case, it’s not like I’d be spending the night with her.”  
Gellert sat up and gasped, as if offended. “Are you saying that my Aunt Bathilda is not good enough for you?”  
Oh good. He had transitioned into frivolity. Thank Merlin.  
Albus hopped out of bed and teased, “I’m saying your Aunt Bathilda is entirely too good for me. Good thing there’s such a one as you about!” And he winked.  
That got Gellert out of bed. He chased Albus down (though really, Albus had intended all along to be caught), grabbed him from behind, and growled in his ear, “Am I bad for you, Liebhaber? Or no worse than you need me to be?”  
Albus’ breath caught, and he thanked all the gods that he had told Bathilda not to expect them downstairs this evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Albus remember to put that silencing charm back up, I wonder?


	8. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we learn something about Bathilda, something about Albus, and more than one thing about Gellert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are keeping track - we have finally caught up with Chapter 2 of _Aethelfrith the Wise_ , LOL  
> That chapter takes place roughly concurrently with this one.
> 
> In other news, I would like to dedicate this chapter to The Oxford English Dictionary. I had been tying myself in knots over whether it was realistic to have Albus and Gellert say "fuck" so much in this fic, as well as others I have written. Turns out the answer is a resounding yes.
> 
> The rest of this note will be a long-winded celebration of the OED in general - and their documentation of a certain crude word in particular. I will not mind (and, as we are all well aware, will not even know) if you skip it, and scroll down to read the actual story right now ;)
> 
> As a noun, fuck has been in use in Britain since the 17th century (one of my favorite examples was “I was dying with want of a fuck,” attested c.1890), and “a good fuck” seems to have appeared in the 19th century.  
> As a verb, fuck can be found as early as 1568 (in 1598, you could read the sentence “Ay fukkand lyke ane furious Fornicatour.” And in 1680 “An hour after, he Ferked my Arse again in the same manner.”)  
> The use of “fucking” as an intensifier is somewhat more recent – first attested in 1868 – but that is well early enough for the purposes of our story.  
> Among the fuck-related phrases you will not be seeing in this story are “fuck knows” and “for fuck’s sake,” at they have not been documented as appearing prior to the mid 20th century.
> 
> And sadly, I have learned that, if I wish to be historically accurate, I am going to need to remove any use of the word "wanker," as well as the expression "can't be arsed." And it was very disappointing to learn that "to rise with one's arse upwards" (to mean to have good luck) fell out of use after the 18th century.
> 
> God bless the compilers of the OED - there is really no beating them for thoroughness.  
> On the other hand, now that I have a subscription to the OED, I am finding myself to be trapped on the page, looking up word after word. (Wanker? no. Bugger? yes. Can't be arsed? no. Arse? yes.)  
> Time to stop obsessively looking up every suspect word or phrase in this entire fic, and just post the fucking thing. ;)

Chapter 7  
August 1899 

Albus stepped out of the floo and stumbled straight into Gellert’s arms.  
“You’re back!” Gellert pulled Albus onto the sofa and leapt on him, kissing Albus until they ran out of breath. “I was so worried that you wouldn’t come back.” He ran his hand through Albus’ hair and looked at him as if he were still uncertain that he was really there.  
“Why do you worry yourself like this? I told you I would come back – I love you!”  
Albus had missed Gellert terribly. He held him tightly, reacquainting himself with Gellert’s warmth, his scent, the hard muscles of his back. 

It occurred to Albus that he had not specified when he would be arriving that day, only that it would be ‘morning or midday.’  
“How long have you been waiting there for me?” he asked suspiciously.  
“I just happened to be standing there.” Albus raised his eyebrow at this unconvincing lie. “Fine, I was waiting for you. But not for long,” Gellert said.  
“That’s right – not long. He was only standing there for an hour and a half!” Bathilda called from her study.  
Albus looked from the door to Gellert, wide-eyed. He pushed Gellert off of him and hastily stood up, which made Gellert scowl.

“I thought you always put up a silencing charm when you are working, Auntie,” he called back.  
While Albus was still hurriedly tucking back in his shirt, Bathilda walked into the parlour.  
“Not always, dear. You should never count on someone else’s silencing charms. For future reference.”  
She winked at them. 

Albus blushed. What all had she heard over the past two months? How much had she heard just now? He looked her in her eyes.  
“Don’t you dare try that with me, young man!” She came closer so that she could swat Albus on the back of his head. “Some things are best left a mystery.”  
Albus did not particularly like not knowing. But if Bathilda didn’t want him to look into her head, then he could respect that. She was one of the few people he trusted. Her, and Gellert, and… no, that was it. Her and Gellert. 

“Now sit, dears, and I’ll bring us some tea. I want to hear all about the past two days. Gringotts, Hogwarts, everything.”

It transpired that Albus did not have to wonder for very long about what Bathilda had overheard.  
When she came back with the tea and found them seated on opposite sides of the sofa, she laughed.  
“I’m delighted that Gellert has found someone with whom he can share his – _enthusiasm_ ,” she said with a wink. And then she had admonished them: “I’m not sure why you are sitting so far apart from one another, as if you don’t like one another at all! It isn’t going to bother me if you snuggle up to one another. After all, you’ve been apart for a long time.”  
Then before they could respond in any way, she continued, “At my age, of course, two days is not such a long time, but for you boys…”

She sat down and served the tea, and Gellert moved to Albus’ end of the sofa. He pushed Albus away from the arm of the sofa, so that Gellert could lean his back against it and drape his legs over Albus’ lap.  
That was – fine, Albus supposed, if a bit surreal. Albus had never been physically affectionate with Gellert _in front of someone else._

No, what was truly difficult was when Bathilda suggested that ‘Gellert had a _very hard_ time’ being separated from Albus for the past two days, and that “he was moping about so, he would be _buggered_ if he would so much as drag his _arse_ to the pantry for a slice of bread.”  
She added that she had known from the beginning that Gellert and Albus would become friends, but that she had had no notion ‘just how very _close_ ’ they would become. Then she said that she was glad that they had found their friendship to be so ‘satisfying,’ adding, “But do be careful dears – when you forget the silencing charms, I’m sure the whole street is aware of _just how well you satisfy one another!_ ”  
Then she laughed, and Gellert laughed, and Albus looked longingly at the floo. 

Of course, she also did what Albus supposed were the usual things an older relative did when you found yourself in a serious relationship: she admonished them to treat one another well, and not to be consumed by silly arguments (she fixed her eye on Gellert when she said that), and told them she loved them.  
But mostly it seemed that she had wanted to tease them about their inability to keep their hands off one another, their obliviousness when it came to where she was in the house at any given time, and their general lack of stealthiness when it came to sex, “Even though you have usually managed to confine yourselves to Gellert’s room, and this old woman thanks you for that.”

It was a relief when she transitioned into asking about Albus’ trip to Hogwarts, and what difficulties he had encountered escorting Aberforth to school weeks ahead of the start of term.  
And asking them about their upcoming trip.  
And asking what Albus knew about her new neighbour.  
He had had about all he could take of knowing comments about what felt to him to be very private matters (leaving for the moment the likelihood that he was standing on shaky ground, claiming privacy, if they could be heard all over the house, and perhaps the neighbourhood), and the longer they talked about these other things, the easier it was to forget the earlier part of the conversation.

But Bathilda went on, and on, and on. Once she had finished telling them about ‘this fascinating report from the Ministry of Magic on waning birth rates amongst house elves,’ and moved on to ‘did you realize that the supposed tradition that the Headmaster of Hogwarts be a Pureblood is actually quite a recent development,’ Albus realized that he had been in Bathilda’s parlour an awfully long time, and that, more than anything, he wanted to take off his shoes.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Gellert flopped backwards onto his bed, as Albus closed the door behind them, carefully setting up multiple silencing charms.  
“That was…“  
“…mortifying?” Albus suggested.  
“Excruciating!” Gellert answered. “Two hours! For someone who does not mind that we are fucking –“  
“Gellert!”  
“Fuuuu-ckiiiing…”  
Albus rolled his eyes.

“…she sure didn’t seem eager to let me drag you up the stairs.”

Gellert was right – it had been excruciating. Bathilda was one of Albus’ favourite people, but he hadn’t gone two days without sex since – well, fair enough, it hadn’t been quite two months, but that was long enough for Gellert’s body to have become necessary to Albus’ very survival. He ached with need, and he was not sure how he would have managed if he had been forced to stay away another day.

Albus took off his shoes and socks and wiggled his toes.  
He gazed at Gellert, who was now sitting on the end of the bed. Perfect, beautiful Gellert. Fuuuu-cking Gellert Grindelwald.  
“What is it, Love?”  
“I was just thinking about how much I love your hair.”  
Gellert smiled widely. “Oh?”  
“Yes,” Albus stood and walked over to Gellert. “I love running my hands through your hair when you have your head between my legs. I love the way your hair falls down around my face when you lean over me. I love the way it looks all spread out on the pillow when I’m riding you. I even love when it tickles my nose and gets in my mouth when I’m curled up tight behind you in bed at night.”

“It gets in your mouth?”  
“You know it does. Don’t act so shocked about it. Of all the things to fixate on.”  
“You’re the one who mentioned it.”  
“I was just – being thorough.”  
Gellert smirked. Albus could not believe he had fallen for that _again_. He wondered if he would always fall for it.

“I am never going to get tired of making you indignant, Liebling.”  
“Never?”  
“Never.”  
Albus’ mouth twisted into a half smile. “What if I get tired of you making me indignant?”  
“Then I suppose that I shall have to pester you into telling me, since you will probably stew about it endlessly before saying anything about it on your own.”

“I do not…”  
“Oh yes! Just like I had to pressure you into admitting your jealousy over Martin the barman.”  
“What are you even talking about, Gellert?”  
“Back to being in denial, are we Liebling?”  
Albus hit Gellert with a pillow.  
“Ah! So you are still angry! I keep telling you that it is nothing! It is only the ale I return for – nothing more!”  
Albus thwacked Gellert with the pillow twice more. 

“Gellert?”  
“Albus?”  
“For someone who does not mind that we are fucking…”

With a roar, Gellert tackled Albus onto the floor and began tearing off his clothes, kissing him all over, as if he was going to die if he waited another moment to get his mouth on Albus’ bare skin.  
“The bed –“ Albus gasped. “The bed is right there.”  
Gellert lifted up his mouth long enough to say, “I like the floor.”  
Albus began to sit up, but Gellert pushed him back down on the floor hard.  
“When I am done with you,” Gellert growled, “No part of you is going to be left untouched. I want your whole body to feel…” Gellert paused to strongly clamp down on Albus’ inner thigh with his teeth.

Albus yelped, then grabbed Gellert by the shoulders and gave a push.  
“Stop! Stop it. Right now.”  
Gellert sat back on his heels, panting heavily.  
“If you want to play rough, you need to ask. You can’t just toss me around without knowing whether I want it.”  
Gellert looked confused. “I thought you liked being tossed around.”

Albus paused. That was true – he did like it when Gellert manhandled him…  
“You’re right. I love it when you rip my clothes off in a frenzy, and when you toss me on the floor, or when you throw me over your shoulder and carry me to bed. I’ve missed you so much! To know that it has been driving you insane, too – that you feel out of control – you are everything I want. But the biting… it hurt, and it was a bit frightening.”

Gellert looked concerned. “I’m sorry Albus, I didn’t mean – I love you. Is there anything else I need not to do? I don’t want to scare you, or hurt you. Gods – ”  
“Shh… Gellert, it’s ok.”  
“It’s not –“  
“It is! You love me. You make me feel safe when I’m with you –“  
“Not this time!”

“But _every other time._ And this time – I know you feel badly that I had to tell you to stop, but – you _did_ stop when I asked you to. I had never had to tell you to stop before, and just now, when I said ‘stop’ to you for the first time, I learned that you do stop, and that makes me feel safe too. Even safer than before.”  
Gellert looked hesitant. “Really?”  
“Really. So as long as there’s no biting from now on – well, and I did not enjoy the rug burn last time we were on the floor, so we should use a charm for that, too… but mainly, I think, no biting.”

Gellert looked down and worried his lip, then looked up at Albus without quite meeting his eyes. “Absolutely no biting? Or just no biting you? That is… how do you feel about biting me?”  
“You – want me to bite you?”  
“Gods, yes.”  
Albus blushed. “I think I can do that.”  
Gellert groaned, “Oh, thank all the stars!”  
Was the thought alone enough to excite him that much? How – fascinating…

Albus grinned. “After all, you are so very tasty.” He pulled Gellert to him and kissed him, then nipped him on the neck, licked the spot he’d bitten, and bit down again, harder this time. Gellert moaned.  
“I’ve always wanted you to bite my arse,” he ventured.  
Albus pulled away from Gellert's neck, looked him in the eyes, and attacked his mouth feverishly. Gellert didn’t just want him – Gellert wanted him to mark him.  
Albus broke away and bit his lip, studying Gellert's face. “I think that can be arranged. But right now, you are all covered up.”  
He ran his finger down the front of Gellert’s shirt, wandlessly unbuttoning it.  
Gellert kissed Albus deeply, then pulled away and sighed, “Show off.”

Albus didn’t mention that they both knew very well that Gellert himself was fairly good at wandlessly undressing Albus at this point, when he felt like it. Instead he straddled Gellert’s lap and began kissing the wizard furiously, with his hands tangled in the hair he loved so much. He rocked against him, and dug his nails into Gellert’s back. He stopped kissing him long enough to ask, “Is this ok?”  
Albus could feel Gellert’s lips pulling into a smile against his bare shoulder. “It’s brilliant. Keep going.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Recovering in bed with Gellert, sweaty and exhausted, had been Albus’ favourite feeling for weeks. But recovering in bed, sweaty and exhausted, while cataloguing all of the marks he had left on Gellert’s skin – that was even better. He was going to find and kiss each one.

“Albus?”  
“Yes?”  
“I did not think it could get better. It was perfect before, and today was better.”  
Albus was not at all surprised in retrospect. It only stood to reason that the more they practiced, the more they would learn about each other’s bodies – and about their own. But he could concede that it was a surprise in the moment, how much more intense it could be.  
Gellert continued, “You were amazing. An animal.”  
Albus hummed an acknowledgment and went back to kissing the marks he had left on Gellert’s back, arse, thighs. He kissed down his leg, and then sucked one of Gellert’s toes into his mouth.  
Gellert yelped. 

“Woden’s pointy hat!”  
Albus laughed. “Oh, I hadn’t heard that one before! You like that, then?”  
“Like it? Like it?” Gellert rolled over onto his back. “I’m ready to go again!”  
“Mmm… I must not have done a good enough job, if you aren’t worn out yet.”  
“You don’t seem very tired either!”  
True. Albus realized that he would not be opposed to…  
Albus’ thoughts went from ‘not opposed’ to ‘absolutely in favour’ when Gellert pulled Albus to him.  
“You take such good care of me, Liebling. My turn.”  
Gellert flipped them, so that Albus was the one on his back, and began finding all of his favourite places to kiss him – and a few new ones.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG 

Gellert was sitting against the headboard, and Albus was facing him, working a small lock of his hair into a braid. He smiled sadly. “I am going to miss your hair.”

“I am beginning to think that you love me only for my hair! Will you leave me if I become bald?” Gellert teased.  
Albus smiled mischievously. “Wizards do not become bald, so we will never know.”  
“Except in potions accidents.”  
“True. You had best be careful then.”

Gellert paused. “But what do you mean that you are going to miss it?”  
“Muggle men don’t wear long hair anymore, so if we want to fit in in most Muggle areas, we are going to have to cut our hair.”  
“We are _Wizards_ , Albus. You cannot tell me that you have never heard of glamour charms.”  
“You are perhaps the most powerful Wizard I have ever met -"  
"Other than you," Gellert interrupted.  
Arguably, Albus had always known himself, and so could not be said to have met... not the point. He didn't know that he actually _was_ more powerful than Gellert. In some ways, yes, but in other ways...?  
He kissed Gellert lightly and then sat back on his heels, continuing where he had left off.

"Gellert, the energy it takes to maintain a glamour charm full-time – the drain on your core – I love you. I cannot ask you to do that just so that you can keep your hair long for me to enjoy when we are alone together.”  
Gellert stood up, threw on his dressing gown, and began pacing.  
“Well, actually…”

‘Well, actually.’ This had become a sure sign that Gellert was nervous about sharing something. Something important. Maybe something he had been hiding.  
“Gellert. Look at me, Love.”  
Gellert turned to look at Albus. One of his eyes was a pale blue, just on the edge of grey, like the sky on a winter’s day, and the other was so dark that it was nearly black. It was as if his eyes represented day and night, light and dark, sun and shadow.  
“Oh! Well done! But I don’t imagine that you could hold that all day long.”

Gellert was silent, so Albus continued, “You look amazing! But I like your…” he trailed off, noticing that Gellert was not preening at Albus’ praise. That was… uncharacteristic.  
“Albus. I could _easily_ hold this all day. This is…”  
Oh. “This is what your eyes really look like, isn’t it.”  
“I – some wizards have found it distracting. Or uncanny. And the few Muggles with differently coloured eyes don’t generally have quite so strong a contrast as this. So…” He gestured to his face and changed his eyes to the dark blue Albus knew, and then back to his natural colours.

“How long have you been glamouring your eyes?”  
“Umm… since I was eight? Nine maybe?”  
“All the time?”  
“All the time.”  
“Even around your parents?”  
“All the time, Al. All the time means all the time. Literally, in this instance.”  
Albus stood. “Show me?”  
Gellert sighed. “Okay.”

He and Albus gazed into each other’s eyes – Albus realized that, in a way, he was looking into his lover’s eyes for the very first time. He gazed into Gellert’s eyes and sat in his bedroom as Gellert’s father called him a freak, hid in the hall outside the library where Gellert’s parents were arguing about whose fault the ‘defect’ was, stomped on the foot of a little girl after she proclaimed, ‘I hope my parents don’t make me marry you – how would I look at you all the time?’  
He watched Gellert’s face in the mirror as he tried again and again to change his eyes – to make them ‘normal’ – and the mixture of relief and sadness when he finally succeeded. He ate dinner with Gellert’s parents, waiting for them to acknowledge his achievement, later supposing they hadn’t only because they were waiting until they had him alone. He ran out into the garden, realizing they were never going to mention this extraordinary demonstration of power – that even this did not ease their disappointment in him.  
Albus had seen enough. Too much. How dare they?  
“What absolute rubbish!”

Gellert looked startled. “What?”  
“You are beautiful!”  
“Sure, with the dark blue eyes I’ve been showing you. Or the grey eyes I wore in Durmstrang. Or perhaps even with the chocolate brown eyes I wore for my mother, to look more like her.”  
Albus shook his head.  
“I’m not going to lie, Gellert, it is going to take some getting used to.”

Gellert began to turn away, but Albus grabbed his shoulders and held him still.  
“But only because I’ve seen your eyes glamoured from the very beginning. I have made love to you only seeing you with other eyes. But these eyes, these eyes are perfect for you. These are the eyes I want to see when I’m looking up at you.”  
“Or down.”  
“Or down,” Albus affirmed, laughing. “You don’t need to change your eye colour on the basis of who’s on top.”

“You truly want to see me like this?”  
“I truly want to see you like this – as you are. As you really are. No glamours.”  
“Except around Muggles. I should go back to my glamour around Muggles.”

“Could you not? I mean, I understand that you feel you will need to change them so that they match, but… just not to the colour they were when I met you? It would be… confusing. I want to think of whatever glamoured eye colour you are wearing as a disguise. Not as the ‘real colour’ of your eyes.”  
“Ok. Let’s see. Hazel?” Gellert’s eyes shifted.  
“Mmm. No. Let’s see the grey you were talking about?”  
Gellert shifted his eye colour again.

“Let’s try light brown. Like honey on bread.”  
Gellert laughed. “Like honey on bread, Mr. Sweet-tooth? I think that you are enjoying this game.”  
Gellert’s eyes changed colour once more.

“That, I think. And the hair?”  
Gellert’s shortened his hair to a fashionable Muggle length and darkened it slightly.  
“Good. You almost don’t look like you. Then when we are alone together…”  
Gellert smiled. “I can look like this.” And he changed back to his shoulder length wavy pale blonde hair, and his heterochromatic eyes.  
“That’s what I want – for you to look like yourself – I need to see you, the real you, when we are alone together – when we are making love especially.”

Albus grinned and continued, “I can’t believe you can make those changes so fast! And so easily! And hold them all day! I’ve seen you do magic, and I would never have known that your core was not at full power. You, Love, are amazing.” His eyes roamed over Gellert’s face. “And a dangerous, dangerous man.”  
“Oh! Dangerous.” He took a step forward so that he was flush against Albus, and he whispered into his ear, “I am a _very_ dangerous man, Liebling. Never forget it.” And he grabbed Albus’ arse and pulled him in even closer.  
Albus flushed. “I am –“ he cleared his throat, “I am well aware.”  
“Oh, you haven’t seen the half of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following note is for anyone who would like to make suggestions about where Gellert and Albus go on their world tour(s).  
> tl;dr - you are invited to give me input on this story on the Discord server I set up for this fic: https://discord.gg/25eaMqk
> 
> I live in the U.S. – I was born here, grew up here, went to school here – I’ve visited other countries, but never lived anywhere else. (Yes, I know – I’m using British spellings in this work – it seemed appropriate, given that the action starts in Britain, Albus is British, and the English Gellert would have learned would have been British English.)
> 
> ANYway – as a result of growing up here, I know tons about the history (political and cultural), geography, regional accents, etc etc of the U.S. – and am embarrassingly spotty on everything else.  
> Most relevantly for the purposes of the next dozen or so chapters, for the period 1890-1910, I am in fairly good shape for English politics and culture, decent at Australian, South American, and Central American politics (but not culture), not completely ignorant of Russian and Ottoman politics… and 100% ignorant of everything else.  
> And here I am sending my main characters off on a world tour.
> 
> You should see the number of tabs I have open on my web browser. It is insane. And it is difficult to find the information I want most.
> 
> So! If there is someplace that you know a bit about that you want Gellert and Albus to visit, let me know, and I’ll pick your brain about it a bit and try to work it into their itinerary.


	9. Forever [Part One]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus and Gellert in Paris

Chapter 8  
August 1899, continued

They had arrived only two days ago, and already Albus felt like he had never been at home until now. He was propped up in bed reading a novel by Flaubert. Or, that is what he had been doing up until a few minutes ago, when he had begun looking at Gellert instead. His attention had been caught by the scratching of his quill on parchment, barely audible over the sounds of the carriages and voices in the street below.  
Gellert was sitting at a table by the window, with a book open off to his right, and parchment scattered all around him. When teased about it, he had responded that he ‘had a system.’ For all the time they spent in bed together, Albus thought that Gellert might be at his most attractive when 8 feet away, bathed in light and thinking hard about something new.

“Albus?” Gellert asked without looking up.  
“Gellert?” Albus echoed, smiling widely. He loved that they already had rituals of speech together.  
Gellert looked up at Albus, “I love you. So much. I could hear you smile – I love that I can hear in your voice when you are smiling. I love that I know what your smile is going to look like before I look at you, but still when I see it, it takes my breath away. You are – why am I so far away from you?”  
He got up from the desk and jumped onto the bed. He crawled towards Albus, then knelt beside him and pushed a few strands of hair from in front of his eyes.  
“Marry me?”

Albus was stunned into silence.  
Gellert kissed him gently, then spoke again, “Albus. Marry me.”  
“I’m sure that you have not failed to notice, Gellert, that that is not allowed.”  
“But what if it were allowed,” Gellert insisted. “What if we could be married tonight? Would you say yes?”  
Albus tilted his head. “You’re not speaking hypothetically, are you? Is that what you have been working on over there? A way for us to marry?”  
Gellert sat back on his heels. “A blood pact.”  
Albus considered. He had only a vague notion of what a blood pact entailed. “I don’t think those are legal, Gellert.”  
“They are not legal to perform in England. But they are in France.”  
Albus’ eyes widened. “You planned this!”  
“I will remind you that you are the one who suggested Paris. But I will admit that I had already begun researching which were the countries where we could form a blood pact legally.”

Albus wondered… “Just when did you begin looking into this?”  
“Just after my birthday.”  
“Six weeks ago?”  
“Yes.”  
“We had known each other for five weeks.”  
“Yes. And therefore we have known each other now for a total of 11 weeks, before you say so.” Gellert rolled his eyes. “Which is more than long enough for me to know that I want you with me forever.”

Forever.  
“Can one really get married with a blood pact?”  
“Well, technically, I think you will find that _one_ cannot get married, but two can.”  
“Oh, very funny. What I _meant_ was, I thought blood pacts were just for blood brotherhoods, political alliances, that sort of thing.”  
“Traditionally, yes. But the pact allows for the terms – the vows – to be defined by the people making it. It is flexible in that way. I can get into all of the details with you later, but yes.”  
“And it wouldn’t magically make us brothers? We wouldn’t be – it wouldn’t be incest, would it?”  
“No, I checked.” Gellert’s eyes widened as he broke into a wicked grin, “But that would be pretty hot, don’t you think?”  
Albus shuddered. “No, I don’t think.”  
Then they said together, “Aberforth.”  
“My brother, on the other hand…”  
“Gellert! This is turning into a very disturbing marriage proposal.”  
“I’m sorry,” said Gellert, not looking at all sorry. “I’m just excited. I finally figured out all of the pieces, and I want us to belong to each other completely, forever, and now we can, in a way that magic will recognize, and –“

“Yes,” said Albus, “My answer is yes.”  
“Yes!” said Gellert.  
He leaned in for a kiss, but was interrupted by Albus. “But first –“  
“But first?”  
“But first I want everything out in the open. We each have to share everything – or no, everything is not possible. At least, we need to share anything that we have been holding back because we have been afraid. I want neither of us to have cause to wonder if the other really wants us – all of us. Anything that we worry might make the other turn away from us – we have to share that first. After that – yes. I will marry you, Gellert Grindelwald, in whatever way you have figured out for us. Once you have explained the requirements of the ritual more fully, and we have considered exactly how to word the vows.”

“So many conditions on your yes,” Gellert huffed.  
Albus laid his hand on Gellert’s cheek. “You couldn’t have expected anything different from me, Love. You’re constantly telling me that I am too cautious.”  
Gellert exhaled heavily. “Actually, I expected you to say no.”  
“Well, I couldn’t say no when I’ve thought so much about it myself. I just didn’t look into how to make it possible, the way you did.”

Gellert looked into Albus’ eyes. “You have thought about it? Truly?”  
Albus leaned forward and kissed him. “Of course. How could I not think about it? I already know that I would give up all the world before giving up you.”  
Gellert’s smile was radiant, then smug. “Well, naturally. I am quite a catch.”  
Albus pushed against his shoulder, but sitting on his heels, Gellert was too stable to fall over. He straddled Albus and pinned him to the headboard.  
“Oh no you don’t!” said Albus. “You had told me that you were going to buy me a cup of coffee and a slice of apple tart for my birthday. If you start in now, we will not make it out before dinner at all.”

Gellert pouted. “Oh fine. We will go out, then.”  
Albus kissed Gellert on the tip of his nose (it was absurd how much Albus loved Gellert’s nose.) “We can talk in the café – we have a lot to talk about if you still want to get married tonight.”  
Gellert looked at Albus, surprised. “Tonight?”  
“Well you asked me if I would marry you tonight. I think that there is time to meet all of my conditions – there are still ten hours before midnight.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Once their food had come to the table, Albus threw up a spell of his own invention – it would make the words they were speaking both incomprehensible and uninteresting to passersby. They might be amongst Muggles, but that was no reason to give up magic, as long as they could do it wandlessly, discretely. 

“I will go first,” said Gellert, taking a deep breath. “I am also attracted to women.”  
Albus was scared to ask, but the point of this whole exercise was to overcome their fears, so – “And have you ever, umm…”  
“No, I’ve never acted on it, so it is arguably theoretical, though I know what I felt –“  
“– in your trousers –“ muttered Albus, not a little resentfully.  
“In my trousers,” Gellert agreed laughing. He seemed to think that Albus had been making a clever joke. He hadn’t been. 

Gellert shook his head. “But truly – are you alright with me – with it not just being men?”  
Albus had to think about it. It depended upon what Gellert meant by ‘alright.’ This new information didn’t diminish Albus’ desire for Gellert in any way. On the other hand, Albus (in a way which he knew was unreasonable) wasn’t ‘alright’ with Gellert having ever been attracted to anyone but him – male or female. But it was not fair to hold Gellert to a standard that Albus himself had only met out of paranoia: attraction was dangerous, and Albus had never permitted himself be vulnerable in that way before Gellert had completely overwhelmed his defences.

So that left only one question…  
“I think so, but I don’t understand – wouldn’t it have been easier to – I mean, since you can – With a woman you would not have to hide, to have to come up with alternate ways of getting married…”  
Why wouldn’t Gellert prefer to be with a woman, after all? Here in public they couldn’t even let their hands touch – let their knees touch for Merlin’s sake. Albus had to be careful just how he looked at Gellert. The required restraint was painful. Such difficulties would always dog Albus, whether he was with Gellert or not (and oh, how that ‘or not’ plagued him) – he couldn’t choose any differently – but Gellert –

“Oh, my Love. Wouldn’t it have been easier for you if you had found a nice English boy who wasn’t dragging you all over the world?”  
“You’re not dragging me anywhere, Gellert!”  
Gellert rubbed his face and sighed. “Albus, I love you. Speculating about what is easy is irrelevant now that I have found you. You are the one that I want.”  
Albus nodded. This much made sense. Gellert was easy to love. Nothing else about being with him needed to be easy.

“And why do you think you didn’t – umm – ‘act on it’?”  
“I confess, I might have snogged a girl at Durmstrang if I had figured it out sooner. I didn’t realize that I could feel something for a girl until a couple of weeks before I was expelled. There was a beautiful girl, Antigone, and she was the first girl who had really demonstrated any interest in me –“  
Strangely, this was reassuring to Albus – it reminded him that he might be the only person on Earth who understood Gellert. He was beginning to feel his confidence return. He laughed.  
“Of course that is what it was. Someone was openly interested in you.”

Gellert smirked, and pointed at Albus with his fork. “And she was beautiful! Don’t forget beautiful!”  
“Very well – a _beautiful_ person shows that they are attracted to you, and you cannot resist.” It was not that Albus had a preponderance of evidence for this assertion, but between Gellert’s vanity and his insecurity (he would avoid being rejected at all costs) it seemed right. And that explained why it had taken Gellert so long to allow himself to realize he might find women attractive – as far as Albus had seen, women were usually much more careful than men to keep their romantic interests hidden - Pureblood women, especially.  
Which raised the question…

“Wait. Why – why did you pursue me, then? I was too –“  
“Scared?”  
“I was going to say _cautious_.”  
“And oblivious.”  
“I will concede _inexperienced_. In any case, I would never have made clear overtures that – I mean, I’m sure my feelings were obvious on some level, but I was trying really hard not to –“

“Ah, well. That’s the other thing.”  
“The other thing?”  
“Well, _an_ other thing. I’m – umm – a seer.”  
Oh! A seer!  
Albus had never met a true seer before! That must be interesting! Unless it was completely awful. Wouldn’t there be terrible things you might see? Would you see them in dreams, or would they interrupt your waking life? Wouldn’t that be potentially dangerous? Why hadn’t he ever noticed Gellert getting a vision? Had Gellert received a vision since meeting Albus? Or did they come less frequently than that? Had Gellert ever seen something that he wished he hadn’t seen because it was something gruesome that he could do nothing to prevent? And you probably couldn’t just – order up a vision. You couldn’t see what you wanted to see, but whatever random…

Gellert must not have felt the need to worry over Albus’ silent meanderings, because after a short pause, he continued, “And I saw – I saw you and I in bed together – naked, kissing – I saw you inside of me before I had even met you. So when I first saw you, I recognized you – I knew that you would likely want me, no matter what you were showing on the outside. That made it easier to pick up on the little signs. I noticed you were flustered right away.”

“And that’s why – why you got more worried later? Because we had already made love, and –“  
“I had had no further visions of the two of us together, yes. So it was possible that there was no future for us. I didn’t have any idea, and I don’t like not knowing.”  
“I understand. I don’t like not knowing, either. I imagine that not knowing is even worse for you, since sometimes you do know things that nobody else can know.”

“I – Albus – you don’t mind about me being a seer? You aren’t afraid about what I might see, and how that might affect us? And you won’t expect me to be able to make specific predictions, or to be able to use my gift for our advancement, somehow? And you won’t be angry if I have a vision that doesn’t come true?”  
“Merlin! The things you worry about! I don’t think I like almost anyone you have ever known! No, I’m not worried about any of that. I hope that you’ll tell me more about how it works, since I don’t know very much about it –“  
“I think it is different for every seer anyway.”  
“See – that’s an example of something I did not know.”

“Do you need to know all of that before tonight?”  
“Not unless you are excessively worried about some aspect in particular – I think I know enough to assure you that I love you more, if that’s possible, now that I know what was really behind all of your overwhelming confidence in the beginning.”  
“Oh, well, I’m always overwhelmingly confident – I don’t need your excuses for that!”  
Albus laughed. “I don’t doubt it.”

They silently drank their coffee for a few minutes.  
“Your turn, Liebling.”  
Albus sighed. “I could live off of butterbeer and Muggle candy.”  
“This I know.”  
“I sometimes pick my nose like a Muggle instead of properly cleansing my sinuses with a spell.”  
“I have seen you do that. It is disgusting. But – I have noticed that you do not like it when I pick the lint from my navel either, so I suppose we are even.”  
“I once nicked a book off your Aunt Bathilda.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes, “It does not count as theft when she has given you an open invitation to her library. Tell me, Albus.”

Albus looked down at the table and began smearing around a stray droplet of coffee with his finger.  
“I killed one of Ariana’s chickens this summer. In a blood ritual.”  
“You – you – Albus!”  
“It was – it was a few days after your birthday. I had sent Aberforth off to London to have morning tea in Diagon Alley with a school friend, and then to go see Ariana, have lunch with her.  
“When you had told me about the reasons for your expulsion, I became curious about blood magic – I wanted to do something that you had done, feel something you had felt. And for it to be dark enough for the school to use that as their excuse to expel you –“ Albus looked up at Gellert now, “I imagine that you had to kill something?”  
Gellert nodded.  
“But not a human, right?”  
Gellert sighed. “No, Love, no humans.”

Albus nodded. “Right. So.” He nodded again and looked out towards the street. “Yes. Ok. So, I found this ritual that was for stabilizing the magic of the caster – helping to provide more structure, a better ability to harness intent. It required some hair of the caster, some of their blood, and an animal that had meaning to them. Which made me want to try modifying the ritual – to try to cast it on behalf of Ariana, so that maybe she could become well enough to come home. Maybe even go to Hogwarts, get to live a full life, without endangering anyone.”  
“Oh, Albus.” Albus was glad that he wasn’t looking at Gellert – he didn’t want to see the look on his face.  
“The day before, I had gone to collect some of Ariana’s blood.”  
“Albus! You could have been caught!”  
Albus looked up at Gellert, jaw set and eyes flashing. “I took every precaution.”

“Every precaution! What would I have done if you had been thrown into Azkaban?!”  
“I’m here now, Gellert. May I move on, please?”  
Gellert closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then gestured for Albus to continue.  
“I retrieved some of her hair from a brush that was still in her room, and each of her chickens were dear to her, so I chose one.”  
“How did you hide the loss of the chicken from your brother?”  
“I speculated that maybe a hawk had gotten it.”  
“Ah. Did he believe you?”  
“I’m not sure. He probably thought I’d given it to you and Bathilda for supper – he would have confronted me if he had thought I’d used it in a ritual.”

“Carrying on, then. I thought that I had adjusted the spell appropriately. But instead, when I cast the spell, it drained Ariana of most of her magic and transferred it to me. I stole her magic!”  
“Albus…”  
“I had thought that Abe was going to go see her at St. Mungo’s and see her miraculously transformed. I had imagined him coming home excited, asking me to come back with him and see it, asking if we could bring her home. But instead, when he got there… nothing. Seemingly no difference.  
“And then later, it was discovered that she was nearly a Squib. But not entirely. Not enough to allow her to leave the hospital. What little magic she has still erupts randomly – she still can cause destruction, just not on so large a scale. They think that she doesn’t have the power to accidentally kill living creatures anymore. And she probably can’t cause lasting damage to witches or wizards.”

“Now who is impulsive? Albus.”  
Albus looked up at Gellert, and quickly looked away again.  
“Blood magic is – you have to be careful – you have to plan for a long time to know exactly what it is that is going to happen. And that is just if you are performing the ritual as written. To modify the ritual elements in this way… A few _days_ , Albus. That is nothing. Not enough time. You could have – you could have been killed – or worse than killed.”  
Albus peeked up again and saw that Gellert looked – wild. Bereft. Albus had lots of experience modifying and creating spells. Obviously, he had figured out for himself that he had, uncharacteristically, made an error with this particular spell - which led him to the conclusion that blood rituals were more difficult, or would require more study. But he hadn’t realized that blood rituals might be that much more _dangerous_ – what did Gellert mean, ‘worse than killed?’ Now that he thought of it, there were several possibilities… By the sun, moon, and stars – what had he been thinking?!  
Albus’ face began to twist. He had done this to his Gellert, and he couldn’t accuse Gellert of overreacting this time. If what Gellert was saying was true, he might even be underreacting.

“I’m sorry, Albus. I’m not angry at you. And you are right – you are here now. I – I love you, Liebling. I can’t lose you. So, don’t do blood magic without me again – please? Or at least, plan it for longer than a day or two. I don’t want anything to happen to you. It turned out well this time, but – it might not have.”

Finally breathing normally, Gellert continued, “You know I’m not condoning what you did, but – while the results were not what you had intended, Ariana losing some of her magic does not sound like a bad thing, in her case. You did stabilize her magic, in a way. She is not so dangerous as she once was. Which meant that they were able to take her off the sedating potions? Yes?”

Wait… was that – all? Albus had received far less of a lecture than he had been expecting. No, truthfully, he had not known whether to expect forgiveness – if there was one thing that Gellert respected, it was magic. Magic was to be honoured, respected…

Albus sighed, “Yes… But I stole her magic. I never meant to take her magic for myself.”  
“No, you didn’t mean to, so you do not have to feel guilty about that either. And…” Gellert seemed to have had enough of chiding him, because now he was beginning to look intrigued, excited. “How wonderful to have more magic! Have you been holding back? Show me something!”

“Not here! You are more eager than a puppy.”  
“Have you noticed a change, though?”  
“Wandless, wordless magic is effortless now – I may even prefer it to using a wand – I think that might be the ‘harnessing intent’ portion of the spell.”  
“Ah – that is why you are so amazing at that.”  
Albus was not sure he liked that comment. He had been better than average at wandless magic before the ritual. Albus was, in fact, used to being better than average at everything. But he was the one who had said it, and he couldn’t deny it was true – his magic had become practically instinctual since performing the ritual.  
So he shifted the subject, a bit. “You didn’t notice the change?”  
“Remember, I hadn’t known you that long. It was reasonable to assume that you had been holding out on me. As you said, you were cautious in many ways during those early weeks. So: powerful wandless magic – which is a tremendous turn on, by the way. Anything else?”

“This one is strange, because I didn’t think that it was possible – I have a second Animagus form.”  
Gellert laughed. “You were right to to be upset when I said that the Animagus transformation was well understood."  
"You already thought I was right about that - you only said that to upset me!"  
"Well, yes. I did not say that I had been wrong. I didn't actually believe what I was saying. But neither of us knew how right you were."  
“And under the circumstances, I will never be able to publish these findings in one of those silly Transfiguration journals,” Albus teased. 

"So - two forms, you were saying."  
“Yes. I had already been a lynx. And now I can also achieve the form of a barn owl.”  
“That’s – extraordinary! And very lucky for your second form to be a bird.”  
"Yes, I imagine it will prove to be quite useful."

But then he sobered. “I am speculating that this new ability comes from having two people’s magic inside of me… But as far as I know, Ariana never performed a successful self-transfiguration of any kind. So, I imagine it was more based on latent ability? And since I have more control, and more education…”

Gellert considered this. “I wonder… In the ritual, we will be sharing not just each other’s blood, but each other’s magic. With you having so much of Ariana’s magic, we will each have access to three people’s magic, not the two I had been expecting. Of course, I am going to have to do a few more calculations when we get back to the room, to make sure that the ritual is safe as written given this new information. But I wonder… Could this give both of us the potential to achieve three Animagus forms? Not that I am an Animagus yet, but you can teach me, and… Albus! Just the possibility is thrilling!”

This was not at all the reaction that Albus had expected. But it did raise some interesting questions.  
“Sharing magic – does that mean that I will be able to throw up powerful glamours without a strain on my core, the way you do?”  
“Perhaps – with practice – if sharing the magic does not just mean an amplification of our magical power, but also a sharing of one another’s magical potentials, as you postulate happened with Ariana.”  
“It is too bad I cut my hair, then. I could have just glamoured it, if I’d waited a few days.”  
“I like your hair short. It makes it easier to see your face.”  
Gellert looked at Albus hungrily, making Albus blush. Gellert smirked triumphantly. 

“So, aside from those animals who have died for your dinner, you have one chicken to your account.”  
That seemed rather to minimize the whole endeavour, but yes.  
“Is there anything else you need me to know, Albus?”

 _Yes._  
_I have never told anyone even a quarter of the things I’ve told you, and that scares me._  
_I am terrified by the depths of my feelings for you._  
_I would kill for you. But killing for you would be less of a sacrifice than I let on._  
_It was exciting killing that chicken, but somehow not exciting enough._  
_I am frightened by how appealing I find the idea of taking an unworthy life._  
_I am frightened by how many lives I find unworthy, and how quickly that list has been growing._  
_I have heard that the exercise of that ultimate power is a rush – is it?_  
_I almost want to kill someone to find out._  
_That can’t be true. I would never do something like that._  
_And I haven’t done it yet, anyway._  
_Why on Earth did I suggest this exercise?_  
_Did I want Gellert’s secrets so badly that I did not think about having to share my own?_  
_Did I not intend to share my own?_  
_That is not fair – I have shared, I did share._  
_But what is a thought that has not become action? It is nothing._  
_No, there is nothing to confess._

“I think that you already know everything else.” Albus paused. “Everything important.”  
Gellert looked at him for a long moment. “Ok.”  
“How about you?”

“I suppose there is one last thing – I haven’t told you the full extent of my plans for the Muggles. If we are going to come out from the shadows, if we are truly going to make ourselves known, then for our own protection and the protection of the world – as well as for the protection of the Muggles themselves – we wizards are going to need to be in charge. I envision a world where the Muggles serve the wizards, and the wizards rule.”

Albus laughed. “I hadn’t realized that you were meaning to hide that from me!”  
Gellert looked puzzled. “You – know?”  
Albus smiled and nodded.  
“And you agree?”  
“I am withholding judgment, pending data collection, which is, I think, why we left England in the first place. Though I suspect it was also because you were restless and bored.”  
“You are the one who suggested going abroad!”  
“I most certainly did not! But even if I did, I am fairly certain that you very much wanted me to suggest it.”

Gellert worried his lip. “I am not very good at hiding my thoughts from you, Albus.”  
“No, you are not! Thank Merlin.”  
Albus noticed that it went unsaid whether he was good at hiding his thoughts from Gellert. He wondered if Gellert was learning to notice the things he didn’t say. The larger part of him wanted to tell Gellert everything, but – he had already told him _almost_ everything – he had told him so much that it was alarming. Surely that should count for something?  
“So,” said Gellert, “We have now confessed, as you suggested –“

“Wait. No. There is one more thing.”  
Albus only noticed the tension on Gellert’s face now that it was relieved. It was clear that he hadn’t known what Albus might have to confess – but that he had known that there was something. Albus tried to be glad he had spoken up, but instead he felt like a pile of bricks was on his chest.

“I am scared. I am scared that you already know too much about me. I am scared every time I confess something new, that this is going to be the thing that pushes you away. Or worse, that you have been with me all this time waiting only for that one piece of information, and now that you have what you want, you can leave.  
“I am scared that you actually believe in something, and I am scared that maybe I don’t. I am scared that I will wake up one day and realize that the thing I found most appealing about your goals was how much I was required to exercise power over others in order to achieve them. I am scared that no amount of power I can have will ever be enough. I am scared that, along the way, I am going to kill someone and like it and want to do it again. I am scared that I will look for a reason to kill someone the first time.  
“I am scared of how I feel about you – because it gives you power over me. I am scared of how you feel about me because it gives me power over you, and I don’t like knowing how easily I could hurt you. I am scared that I even care about that – I have never resisted holding power over another person.  
“You are the only person I trust – well, probably Bathilda, too, but not in the same way, not with everything. Trusting people doesn’t come naturally to me, it feels dangerous to me. I am terrified of you, and I am terrified of myself.”  
Albus was trembling. His fists were clenched and his face was drained of all colour.

“Albus? Albus, Love.”  
Albus looked up at Gellert.  
“Notice-me-not,” he said, gesturing with his head out towards the street for some reason.  
“I don’t…”  
“Throw up a notice-me-not for a moment, Darling. Some Muggle is going to see you and be frightened.”  
As soon as the charm was up, Gellert reached out and held onto Albus’ hands.

“I hate being out in public, talking about things like this. I should now be holding you.”  
“Gellert?”  
“Also kissing you. Holding your hand is not enough, and we will not be able to do even this for long. Soon the waiter will begin wondering where his table has gone.”  
Having his hands in Gellert’s was steadying, to be sure. The warmth and the familiarity of it, the reassurance that Albus was still touchable, that Gellert still wanted him close, wanted to comfort him…

“You don’t – you don’t think I’m –“  
“I don’t think you are anything but the man that I love, and I hope that the longer we are together, the more you will realize how little you have to fear. I want to hear all of your fears, big and small, for the rest of my life.”  
“The rest of your life? Even after – all of that?”  
“Always, Albus. Always.”  
Albus was hating being in public now, too.  
But – now that he was calmer, he pulled his hands away from Gellert’s and removed the charm hiding their table from the rest of the world.

Albus took a deep breath. Shit. Fuck. He was really going to do this. No turning back.  
“I will help you learn the Animagus transformation, but first, I want to teach you Legilimency.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. For so many reasons, but right now because I can’t touch you in any other way, and I wish you could look into my eyes, right here and now, and see everything I am feeling and imagining and how you are woven through my every thought.”

“Are you sure, Albus? No more secrets?”  
“No more secrets. I am more afraid of hiding from you than I am of exposing myself to you. I need you in my life – in every part of my life - Will you marry me Mr. Grindelwald?”

Gellert threw back his head and laughed, the laugh that Albus loved, a triumphant laugh that seemed to transform not only his face, but his whole body into energy, into joy, into power and surrender both somehow.  
“Now it is your turn to propose to me? Ask me again.”  
"Marry me, Gellert?"  
"With pleasure."


	10. Forever [Part Two]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this universe, there is no Voldemort, and for all the possibilities that opens, one of the greatest losses about this (as far as I’m concerned) is _no dark marks!_ The Dark Mark is a brilliant bit of magic, so I’m going to be repurposing it / paying homage to it in this work – with an introduction in this chapter to how Gellert conceives of using it.
> 
> Also… I can’t get behind two people having a blood pact, and the resulting marker / holder of that pact being just one item. So – I’m doing things differently here.

Chapter 9  
August 1899, continued

After they had truly shared every secret, Gellert got that look in his eyes that meant, “I am not interested in restraining myself from ripping all of your clothes off.” So Albus hurriedly settled the bill, as he was not looking to spend the rest of his birthday in a Muggle prison. He calculated that Gellert might not be safe to walk back to the hotel on a public street, so he directed them into a closed alley so that they could apparate directly into their room. 

But Gellert was not having it. He soon had Albus positioned face first against a wall, his trousers lowered just enough to prepare him.  
“Gellert!” Albus gasped, “What if someone sees?”  
“They won’t if you put up a notice-me-not.”  
Albus groaned in a way that he had meant to sound exasperated, but instead sounded all too encouraging. He removed his right hand from the wall long enough to wave it towards the entrance of the alleyway.

“It’s done?” Gellert asked.  
“Yes!” Albus yelped, not entirely in reply to the question.  
“Good,” he growled as he lowered his own trousers.  
It was not until Gellert had finished with him and they had made it back to the hotel room that Albus realized that that was the most flagrant violation of his ‘no public exposure’ rule that he had ever allowed – not yet realizing that in twelve hours, he and Gellert were going to be completely unclothed under the Paris sky.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

In bed after the second round of ‘celebrating’ the completion of Albus’ first condition on their engagement, the boys were lying in bed together holding hands, Albus on his back, and Gellert sprawled on his belly.

“So,” said Albus, “What are we promising one another?”  
“Brilliant sex always. Daily. Twice daily. At least.”  
Albus rolled over onto his side facing Gellert and propped himself up on his elbow. “I’m not sure that’s realistic Gellert. We are going to be old one day. What if we – don’t have this kind of stamina? What if…?”  
“Spoil sport!” Gellert laughed as he pushed himself up just long enough to pull Albus back down with him. 

“I'm being serious, Gellert. What are the consequences of breaking any of the vows we make? Is a blood pact like an unbreakable vow? It won’t kill us, right?”  
“Right, but – well – there are actually two reasons it is called a blood pact. The one everyone knows is that it requires an exchange of our blood. But the second reason is that it is enforced in blood – if we break any of the vows, we will bleed while we are breaking it. Whoever breaks the vow will bleed, and the wound will close only when the one who has broken the vow stops doing whatever they were doing that was in violation of the vow.”

Albus gently pulled away from Gellert and knelt beside him.  
“So, in concrete terms, if we did make a blood pact with this vow to have brilliant sex twice a day… if we didn’t have sex for one whole day, we would both start bleeding and not stop until we had sex next? Or maybe not before we finished the second time? That sounds like a great way to die if one of us is unconscious for more than 36 hours, for example.”  
Gellert waved him off. “To be fair, I was being facetious. It is not my fault that you took me seriously.”  
“This blood pact sounds dangerous, Gellert.”

Gellert sat up and took hold of Albus’ hand. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I thought it could cause you harm, Albus. I have studied blood rituals - even participated in them - since before I enrolled in Durmstrang. I have been researching bonding rituals for the past two years, for use in other contexts. Over the past six weeks I have been researching blood pacts exclusively – I have read books and personal accounts, I have run the arithmantics – it doesn’t have to be dangerous, as long as we word the vows carefully.”

Albus considered this. Gellert could be impulsive sometimes, but he had respect for magic – he was not only brilliant, but also meticulous in his spell creation. This would be no different.  
Albus leaned in so that his forehead touched Gellert’s and whispered. “Ok. I trust you, Love.”

Gellert hopped off the bed and then back on again. He was so excited he seemed almost to be vibrating. “So, what are we promising one another?”  
“Fidelity – that we will never have sex with someone else.”  
“Absolutely. I also want proximity – that we will see each other every day.”  
“That won’t work at all – what if one of us has to go on some sort of mission? Or to a conference? Or we get separated against our will somehow?”  
“Ok. We won’t go more than a week…”  
“There is a limit to how far a person can apparate, and there are no trans-oceanic portkeys – there is only Muggle transportation at certain distances. What if one of us needs to go to, for example, Australia, and the other needs to be in Morocco? We won’t go more than six months.”

“What kind of marriage would that be?! Have I ever told you that you are too cautious, Albus?”  
“This caution might save both our lives.”  
“Or we could simply commit to always traveling together.”  
“What if we disagree about where to go? We can’t see all ends, Gellert. This pact is forever.”

Gellert threw on a robe and began pacing.  
Albus tried not to wonder what Gellert was thinking about. He hoped that they hadn’t derailed everything at the start – but if they had, then maybe they weren’t ready. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Gellert spoke: “Here’s an idea: tattoos that are like portkeys.”  
“We turn ourselves into portkeys?”  
“In a way, yes. Consider a magical tattoo – we would both have the same one. When we wanted to travel to see the other person, we press the tattoo – and travel to where the other person was.”

Albus had several questions, but primarily he wanted to know that this was not something that Gellert had just thought of five seconds ago.  
“You’ve been studying magical tattoos as well?”  
“Well – I was toying with the idea of integrated portkeys as a combat tool about a year ago. To be fair, I only put a few months of research into it. I have the basics of it figured out, and some of the details. This seems a much easier application, since there’s just two of us.”

“And this would work trans-oceanically?”  
“I was looking at it for global troop movements. All signs were pointing towards yes.”  
Global troop movements? Albus rather hoped this was for some class assignment at Durmstrang – martial magic seemed like something they’d likely teach there… But… No, Albus knew that this was much more likely all part of Gellert’s ‘Muggle project.’ Stars above. And he had been worried about his own homicidal potential.

“I like the idea, but it could be a problem if I were to suddenly appear where you are without warning. You could be somewhere unsafe, or somewhere a Muggle could see us. What if, instead, when I press the tattoo, it warms up your tattoo, and I wait. Then you have 15 minutes to press your tattoo – and when you do, _then_ it brings me to you. That would give you time to get into an appropriate place. And it would spare me waiting around in one place for hours if you can’t bring me over right away. And vice versa.”  
“That sounds slightly more complicated, but achievable. But it would take some time to prepare for such a spell. Research – perhaps as much as three months. And after that, we would need to find a safe place to brew the potions required.”  
“Potions, plural?”  
“Just two. The one takes maybe two days. But the other – three weeks, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“So about four months altogether? We’ll be right beside each other for the better part of every day for at least that long. So it seems we don’t have to make the tattoos before we make the pact. As long as you _know_ you can do it.”  
“I can definitely do it. So – that means we _can_ say we see each other every day, then!”  
“Every three months.”

Gellert groaned. “Albus! Every week, at least!”  
“Every month.”  
“Fine. Fine. We will not let more than four weeks pass without seeing one another. But it had better be every day most of the time.”  
“Oh Gellert. Of course! Saying one month is just – precautionary.”

“I didn’t think that settling on our vows would be so difficult. How are we going to get all of our planning done in time?”  
“Time! Yes! Thank you for reminding me, Gellert! We need to think about how long this ritual takes, and when it is best performed. Is there some advantage to doing it at midnight, for instance? Or at dawn? On the full moon or the new moon? On the solstice…”  
“Albus. We are not waiting until the solstice.”  
“We want to get this right. Four months is no time at all in the context of forever.”  
“Yes, ok, but in any case, the moon and the season doesn’t seem to matter terribly. The time of day makes the difference for this ritual. You have been talking about ‘before midnight,’ but that is a Muggle way of thinking. The wizarding day begins and ends at dawn.”  
“So, we should – do the ritual at dawn?”

“Yes. Rather, we would need to start the ritual earlier than that. It takes some time. There is the ritual space to prepare – runes to spell and circles to inscribe and sharing our blood, and so on. We will want for the ritual to be at the moment of _completion_ at dawn. This next dawn, if you still want to get married tonight.”  
“Yes! But you still haven’t told me about this blood sharing. Is it safe? Will we lose much blood?”  
“Don’t worry, Schatz – I have a very sharp knife, and as part of the ritual, the cuts we make will heal themselves before the circle is swept away.”

“Of course you have a knife.” Albus rolled his eyes. “Is there any reason we can’t just perform a cutting curse with our wands?”  
“This ritual pre-dates the widespread use of wands – wands are best not used for ritual magic. And unlike you, I’m not able to control a cutting curse wandlessly. So that leaves a dedicated ritual blade – preferably a stone blade.”  
“And you have one of these ritual knives with you?”  
“Yes, Liebling. I always have an obsidian blade on me.”  
Albus lifted one eyebrow and scanned up and down Gellert’s naked form.  
“Yes, fine - not _on_ me - _with_ me – it's like you and that pair of socks your sister knit for you: you would never stay anywhere without bringing those socks. And I am the same way with my knife. And… a few other things. It doesn’t matter. The point is, we have the knife.”

It suddenly struck Albus as absurd, how little he still knew about Gellert, even now on the cusp of binding themselves to each other in an unbreakable blood pact. He laughed.  
“Let me introduce you to my fiancé – he carries an obsidian knife with him everywhere he goes.”  
“No need to make fun – it is saving us having to go on some doomed hunt for one right now.”  
“True. You are right, Dear. Always.”  
“Can we put that in the vows?”  
Albus laughed, “Certainly not!”  
“Mmmm. But you would be perfectly safe, because I _am_ always right. ‘I, Albus Dumbledore, vow to always admit that my gorgeous, brilliant husband is right in all things.’”  
Albus gently bit Gellert’s shoulder.  
Gellert threw back his head and cried out, “Albuuus!” 

Hmm. Not gently enough, clearly. Albus had meant to get Gellert’s attention, so that they could move on with their vows, but it seemed that he had instead succeeded in shifting his Love’s attention in another direction entirely. Then again, perhaps he had meant to shift Gellert's attention to his mouth rather than their vows - after all, did Albus really want to write the vows right now, when Gellert was right here being so marvellously - Gellert? All he really wanted was this cheeky bastard with his impish grin and his intoxicating responsiveness. 

Gellert fell back and pulled Albus down with him.  
Albus caught his breath, and made a vague gesture towards responsibility: “Gellert. We still haven’t finished with the vows.”  
“Ah yes. All we have is Fidelity,” Gellert grabbed Albus’ cock and began stroking it, “And Proximity.”  
Then he whispered in Albus’ ear, “And how can I focus on anything but your pleasure when I am in such _proximity_ to you, Liebhaber?” And he sucked Albus’ earlobe into his mouth in the way that could be relied upon to erase Albus’ brain. 

“You… are… insatiable!” Albus gasped.  
“So are you, given the proper motivation. And it is so convenient that we still have our clothes off. It would be a shame not to take advantage of it.”  
This was a compelling argument. Supper – and their discussion of the vows – could wait.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

It was about 4:30am when they climbed onto the roof of the hotel, bringing their vows and everything else they needed for the ritual. 

They had been negotiating the wording of the vows until nearly 3. ‘Proximity’ had proven to be contentious again. They had been at supper when Albus had realized that the tattoo only worked for bringing them together – and Gellert conceded that he had never investigated returning a person to where they had been. He thought that he could ‘probably figure it out,’ but neither of them was satisfied with that.  
Gellert said that it shouldn’t matter, but Albus thought they should probably drop the Proximity vow altogether. That led to a row, which led to Albus suggesting that they didn’t have to get bonded tonight if they weren’t ready for it, which led to Gellert leaving the room to ‘take a walk.’ He returned 20 minutes later, and told Albus that he didn’t need a Proximity vow to know that they would always do their best to be near one another. Which inevitably led Albus to show Gellert just how close he wanted for them to be.  
After they had both come, Albus told Gellert, “Even when I am inside you, you are still not as close as I need you to be. If there were some way that you could engulf me entirely, even then we would still not be close enough.” Gellert said that this was the sexiest thing Albus had ever said to him – even sexier than ‘I can deny you nothing.’ 

Later, Gellert had argued forcefully that they ought to vow to always love one another, but Albus disagreed. Love, he contended, was not a choice. Rather than promising love, he thought they need only affirm their love for one another now, in the present, and have faith that it would continue forever into the future.  
Albus suggested that they instead promise to always delight in one another, but Gellert, still sulking over ‘the love controversy,’ said that they couldn’t very well promise to delight in each other always, not least because he was already finding Albus to be very annoying. Albus responded by demonstrating just how very delightful he could be – and when you consider how very many opportunities there were for this sort of arguing and making up, it is no wonder that they only just barely finished in time.

Albus had thought that an hour and a half would be ample time to prepare for the ritual once they had settled on the vows, but once again, Gellert was right in his estimations. They each had to write the vows they had agreed on on a piece of parchment, and then they each read what the other had written to make sure that it was exactly what they had intended, and it wasn’t in either case, so they made corrections and rewrote them on fresh sheets. Then there was the whole matter of getting onto the roof without being seen – they could not apparate as neither of them had been up there yet.

So now here they were, walking the perimeter of the roof together, taking stock of the space they had to work with. Once they had identified the centre of their ritual space, they removed their clothes and set them aside, then arranged all of their ritual objects very carefully. Albus handed Gellert a piece of chalk, and Gellert took it and walked several paces out from the centre. He inscribed runes in a great circle, perhaps ten feet across – one representative word for each of their vows.  
After he had completed the circle, he returned to the centre, and handed Albus a bowl of salt. Remaining in the centre of the circle, he levitated the bowl away from him, directing the bowl to carefully pour a thin stream of salt – creating a circle of salt on the outside of the circle of runes. He then directed the bowl to trace a second circle of salt, on the inside of the runes this time, so that the runes were completely enclosed.

Albus took some charcoal and inscribed a square within the circle, and then he handed the charcoal to Gellert, who inscribed a second square, turned 45 degrees from the first, creating an eight-pointed star. They each moved to each of the points of the square that the other had drawn, taking their index finger and making a small channel in the inner salt circle. Then they set a beeswax candle in seven of the eight channels – but the eastern point they left empty – Gellert had said that the east was to be lit by the rising sun, that was even now burning beneath the horizon.  
They stepped back to the centre of the circle, and with the wave of a hand, Albus lit all the candles at once.

They turned towards one another.  
“Alright, Love,” Gellert asked, searching Albus’ face. “This is the time to stop if you aren’t ready.”  
Albus kissed Gellert deeply. When they broke away from each other’s lips, they leaned their foreheads against one another and breathed one another’s air.  
“That. Was earthshattering – but still not an answer, Albus.”  
“Gellert. I want this. I want you. Tonight. Always.”

Gellert took the blade and cut the palm of his left hand, then he handed the blade to Albus, who did the same. They pressed their palms together and their blood mingled. They held up their palms and drops of their mixed blood rose into the air above them. The vows they had written levitated into the air to join their blood, and as the blood soaked the parchment, they recited in Old Norse the words that Gellert had written in runes around the circle – the words that they had chosen to represent the vows they were making to one another:  
“Family… Fidelity… Respect… Liberty… Honesty… Aid… Nourishment… Renewal…”  
And as they spoke the word ‘Renewal,’ the sun broke over the horizon, and the two pieces of parchment twisted and transformed into arrows.

Albus took Gellert’s right hand in his, and sliced his palm, and Gellert sliced Albus’ right palm, and they each took the other’s hand to their mouth and drank. The parchment arrows shot into their lower backs, disappeared, and left behind a small eight-pointed star the colour of fresh blood.

The sealing of the pact swept them away, making them more driven to possess one another than they ever had been before. They took turns taking one another there in the centre of the circle, and when at last they were too exhausted to do more than lay there, looking at one another in wonder, the candles snuffed themselves out. 

Soon, they would have to erase all signs of them having ever been on the roof. But for now, they would trust that their Muggle repelling and disillusionment charms were enough to buy them some time to simply lay side by side in the early morning sun, facing one another, tracing one another’s faces with their eyes.

Gellert lifted Albus’ hand and kissed his palm, now unmarked, as if it had never been cut. Then he kissed the tips of each of his fingers. “I have marked you mine forever, Albus Dumbledore.”  
“And I you, Gellert Grindelwald.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something just about every AO3 reader knows: You can only give kudos to a work once – you can’t give kudos to individual chapters.
> 
> This means that, with a multi-chapter fic like this one, there is no real way to tell that people who started reading are continuing to read.  
> Now that I’m writing two multi-chapter fics, I finally understand that this is why writers sometimes seem to be begging for comments – the longer the fic gets, the less feedback it is possible to get from any other avenue. Comments help feed the fire. 
> 
> I’d love it if you comment on this work – but already saying even that sounds more needy than I am comfortable with, so – comment on _someone’s_ work this week – you will seriously make their day.


	11. On the Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What have our boys been up to in France?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Flame Kat, for her support, her insight, and her inspiring research help.
> 
> I am, as always, not making money off of this

Chapter 10  
September 1899

Gellert folded his evening paper and set it on the table between himself and Albus.  
“Dreyfus.”  
“Mmmhmmm?” asked Albus, absently, staring out at the Seine, his right hand holding his forgotten wine glass at a dangerous angle.  
“Albus Dumbledore! You are not alone here at this table, you know?”  
“Oh!” said Albus, nearly dropping his glass. “Gellert!”  
Why did Gellert look so impatient? If anything, Albus had been waiting for Gellert to finish reading. “There’s no need to be so snippy. I do not exist just to – wait for you to finish your paper!”  
Gellert looked shocked. “Are you honestly angry that you had to wait for me to finish reading the paper?”  
Albus sighed. “No. But being scolded for daydreaming – something that you claim to like about me, incidentally – is not very good for my temper.”  
“I’m sorry – what do you think of this Dreyfus trial?”  
“That was not a very good apology, Gellert!”  
“I am getting there! I am trying to tell you that I’m not angry with _you_ – it’s these stupid Muggles –“  
Albus lifted an eyebrow in warning. 

Albus had suggested that Gellert needed more practice watching what he said around Muggles. To that end, they had been trying fitting in at Muggle establishments with no magic – starting with no speech garbling, privacy, or notice-me-not charms. So far, they hadn’t been able to make it back to their room without at least one Confundus being required, and more often than not Albus had to cast a couple of Obliviates before making a speedy exit, but they were off to a good start this evening, and Albus was hoping that tonight would be the night that they cast no spells in Muggle Paris.

“… and there doesn’t seem to be any evidence that he was spying for Germany...”  
Oh dear. Albus fished some coins out of his pocket, laid them on the table, and stood.  
“I believe that we are late for the theatre –“  
Gellert picked up his paper and walked out behind Albus.  
“I apologize, Liebling. I did not stop to think that defending a supposed German spy might not best be done with my accent. At least I was speaking English?” Albus rolled his eyes. “Ok, yes, almost everyone in there could probably speak English as well. I know.  
“But this did not mean that we had to go so far as to leave!”

“What if there had been a riot, Gellert? Everyone in France has an opinion about this trial!”  
“Yes, and most of them share my opinion!”  
“If that were so, the poor man would not keep getting convicted. I did not think to investigate whether this café had a particular political leaning. We might have been surrounded by anti-Dreyfusards! If they had come for you, we would have had to have apparated out – exposed ourselves to all of those Muggles – probably earned ourselves a visit from Magical Law Enforcement –“  
“Oh yes, because defending ourselves is not allowed! Because we have to protect the Muggles, even if they are stupid bigots who don’t know how to make decisions based on actual evidence! And if instead we apparate away, we get in trouble even for that show of restraint!”  
“You are right to be angry, Love, you are. Let’s just walk for a few minutes, and then we can talk. Look! Here we are Tuileries.”  
“Tuileries! Are you going to distract me with a donkey ride?”  
It was too late in the evening for donkeys, as Gellert knew very well. And the donkey rides were only for children, so – Oh. Right. Children.  
“I am not trying to distract or placate you, Love. We are here because it was the nearest place from which I could apparate us back to our room – or to wherever you want to go.”  
“Our roof?”  
“Yes, if you want –“  
“No – the beach. The one in Normandy, where we went with Artaud.”  
Albus nodded. They found a spot hidden between a tree and a closed lemonade stand, and disappeared.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG 

Place Cachée had been crammed the week before students were to return to Beauxbatons – not conducive to meeting new people at all. But the week after the students had returned was much quieter, and it was then that Albus had gone ‘browsing’ in the shops of Wizarding Paris – trolling for young witches and wizards to befriend, to discuss the future of the wizarding world.  
Artaud was one of the first wizards Albus had met in Paris. A Muggleborn from Normandy, Artaud was working in the stationery shop. He wanted a job at the newspaper, but that was the sort of job that a Muggleborn simply could not get without a wealthy Pureblood to back them. Artaud had not been advised of these political realities when he was at school, and now he had no useful connections and knew no way to make them. He was reasonably intelligent, driven, malleable, and in need of something that Gellert and Albus might be able to provide. In short, he was ideal.  
Since then, Gellert and Albus had met many more people – wizards and witches, aged from sixteen to eighty, of all blood-statuses and economic backgrounds. They collected and redistributed influence as if they had been born to it. Every once in a while, Albus thought it was a shame that Gellert had ideals – goals that he wanted to achieve. If Gellert could be satisfied simply with them being the most powerful, most sought-after wizards in Europe, he could have had it. 

Albus (together with Gellert, when he was not busy elsewhere) continued to meet Artaud regularly. It had taken little to bring him around to Gellert’s views on the Statute of Secrecy, and now he was using Artaud both as an introduction to other likely Muggleborn and Halfblood allies, and as one of his guides to Muggle France. In return, Gellert had introduced Artaud to Taranis Viterre, the third son in the secondary branch of a Pureblood family. Taranis was always scrambling for a way to feel valued by his family – and in Artaud, he recognized an asset to be leveraged. His father did not yet have a journalist. His grandfather had asked to meet Artaud and been impressed, and now Artaud had an appointment to meet with the editor of the paper, Taranis had the ear of his grandfather, and Taranis’ father had newfound respect for his son. That this sequence of events made Artaud’s loyalty to Gellert and Albus even greater than his loyalty to Taranis did not seem to bother (or perhaps even occur to) anyone in the Viterre family – which was just how Albus liked it.

One evening over drinks, Gellert had mentioned that he had been looking for a beach where he could watch the sun rise over the water, and Artaud had suggested a beach near his uncle’s farm in Ravenoville. Three days later, the three of them were approaching the sea on foot in the pre-dawn light, each carrying a mug of hot coffee and chattering excitedly.  
Later, sitting on the beach and watching the waves roll in, Albus noticed that Gellert was being unusually quiet. He was no longer looking straight out over the water, but a bit to the south, and he was frowning. But he shook it off so quickly that Albus convinced himself that it had been nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps Gellert had just had enough of Artaud’s company. Certainly Albus had found himself wishing that he could have his husband all to himself in this beautiful, quiet, isolated place. 

So to Albus, it was no surprise that Gellert might want to return to that beach. Albus had thought about it many times himself. They had only made love under the open sky that one night, the night they made the pact – and for all of his earlier insistence on taking care not to risk being seen, he was now more of the opinion that, if magic wasn’t good for having sex outside unseen, then what was magic good for? Not that he had been brave enough to say so to Gellert – he wasn’t sure he wanted them to be putting this notion of his to the test in such a populated area as Paris.

But Normandy! Albus hoped that it would be a clear night. The sound of the waves, the stars, the crescent moon – whatever was bothering Gellert, it never took long to resolve – and then there they would be, just the two of them, alone on a beach at night.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Now that they were out of the city, Albus allowed himself to search Gellert’s face more closely than he usually got to do outside of their room. Gellert looked – tired. Breathtaking, as always, but tired. Or – sad? Possibly?  
A small smile appeared on Gellert’s face in response to Albus’ scrutiny, then faded so quickly that anyone but Albus would have missed it. Gellert took Albus’ hand, and began walking down the beach, the ocean on their left. He swept his hand ahead of him.  
“Thousands – thousands upon thousands of people. Young men – Muggles – our age. More of them than there are witches and wizards in all of Magical Britain. They will come through the water, here. Wearing helmets and carrying – guns? I think? Not like the guns I have seen in hunting lodges. Not many of them will die here, but further on, the beaches will be stained with blood and littered with the dead.”  
_Will_ die? Was Gellert talking about…?  
“When?”  
“Not for a long time. Children born this morning will have children, and those children will be old enough to die on the beaches here. A long time, and then again not so long. We are wizards. Our lives will be, perhaps, spent only by a third when this comes to pass.”  
“And is there nothing we can do?”  
“About what? This is not, it seems, the worst of it. This does not even make the list of five worst things that I have seen happen on this Earth in the next 50 years. Perhaps not even ten worst.”  
Gellert dropped Albus’ hand and fell to his knees in the sand. “There is too much. Too much.”

Albus wanted to comfort Gellert, but he didn’t know how. This was new territory. Gellert had never spoken about his visions before. Albus removed his coat, transfigured it into a large blanket, and laid it on the sand. He sat on the blanket, then levitated Gellert over to him, dusting off the sand and removing his shoes in mid-air. He wrapped his arm around Gellert and kissed the top of his head.

“So you saw this when we were here last? With Artaud?”  
“Yes, I – usually, my visions are triggered by something – concrete, something visual. The one I told you about, when I saw you and I together? I saw that when I arrived at Aunt Bathilda’s – when I first saw the bed, I didn’t see it as it was, empty, but as it would be, with you and I in it. This is how it was with the beach that day – I didn’t see it as it was, but as it will be. Although – with the beach it is less certain.”  
“Yes – you said that sometimes – visions don’t come true?”

“The future isn’t exactly set, I think. What I see is a probable future – not a definite future. If someone acts in a way that is unexpected, or if enough people do – if something intervenes, then a different future can result. The vision I had of you – that seemed an almost inevitable future, because it was clearly only weeks away. There was less possibility of something interfering. It will be more than 40 years before the Muggles gather to kill one another on the beaches of Normandy. You ask if there is nothing we can do? There is much that we can do. The question is, would we be avoiding this future, or hastening it? Well, that is one question. Another is whether this should be our priority, when there will be atrocities far worse than the sullying of a small stretch of coastline with a relative handful of corpses.”  
Albus looked out at the moonlight dancing on the waves. This was not the romantic spot he had thought it was. Perhaps nowhere was a romantic spot. He was glad that Gellert did not have visions constantly – there must be no acre of Earth untouched by violent death.  
Wait – did Gellert have visions constantly?

“Tell me, Love, why did you want to come here tonight?”  
“I hadn’t told you yet about my vision.”  
“But that was more than a week ago – why now?”  
“Dreyfus. There is a connection there, somehow. Everything is tied together, and it is driving me mad trying to pick it apart. When I was looking at the drawing of the courtroom in the paper, that drawing was replaced by a drawing of a pile of corpses, and every time I saw the word ‘Jew’ in the paper, that word changed into a yellow, six pointed star, which then turned into ash and blew off the page.  
“Something bad is coming, Albus. But before that, there are many more bad things coming, and after that, things that could kill us all – every last one of us, Magical and Muggle alike. I don’t want to see anymore. I wish I could unsee everything. I would rather be a Muggle, even!”

Albus was fairly certain this was not true, in a broad sense. But he also believed that Gellert believed it at the moment, which was a very serious matter. He had never heard Gellert wish away his magic before. Gellert loved his magic above almost anything. No, perhaps more than anything at all. If Gellert were ever forced to choose between his magic and Albus, Albus wasn't sure which Gellert would give up. Albus wasn't sure he wouldn't choose to die himself to spare Gellert the choice - he couldn't imagine his husband living long without his magic.  
Albus had no response that was adequate to Gellert's pain, so he just held him and continued to watch the waves. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“You are right about the Muggles being too many, Albus.”  
These were the first words that Gellert had spoken in more than 20 minutes.  
“Oh?”  
“Remember how many Muggles you said there were for every wizard in England?”  
“3000.”  
“Right – 3000. I haven’t said anything, but I have been not only researching in Magical archives and libraries in Paris – I have also been looking at Muggle data, and – did you know that 1 in every 500 people in France is Jewish? Proportionately, there are 6 times as many Jews in France as there are Wizards in England. And you see how they are treating Dreyfus, and there is nothing that his people can do for him. Even with non-Jewish allies, the man still spent years in prison for something he clearly did not do.”  
“I can’t believe I’m arguing this, but – is there really any analogy? Jews are just Muggles themselves – no Muggle can be expected to prevail against those kinds of odds.”

“No, you are right, Albus. But one way that some Jews are suggesting they deal with the problem is by separating themselves – moving to another place where they will be in the majority, where they will not be subject to unjust rulers who don’t understand them.”  
“I’m – still not seeing the analogy, Gellert. The world will still know where they are – it isn’t like they are disappearing, just because they are moving.”  
“So you do not think they would disappear if they could?”

“No. No I do not.”  
“And you are right about this, too. Wizards have allowed the Muggle majority to push us to the margins – but we are not the only ones – and yet we are the only ones to have decided upon this _solution_.” He spat the last word. “We need to keep investigating these other groups – how they have survived, and whether some have done better than survive. There may be something we can learn by following this trail of blood.  
“As for us – there are so many Muggles that tens of thousands – hundreds of thousands – can be killed and make no appreciable difference to their numerical advantage. The Muggles on the beach – they kept coming and coming. I wish you were wrong, but you are not – we have to be careful. Slow and careful.”

“Do you think that this is why you had the vision?”  
“I don’t know if my visions have a why. But either way, I have taken it as a warning: I must not underestimate them – I must, at the very least, respect their numbers, their sheer capacity for destruction.  
“Albus, I am not naïve about the Muggles. I am not expecting that I can fix this problem tomorrow. I am not only angry – I am afraid. I am afraid that I will never be able to change anything at all.”  
Albus stood up and reached out his hand to Gellert. Gellert took it and pulled himself up to standing. Albus faced him, “Let me see you, Love.”  
Gellert removed the glamours on his hair and eyes.  
“There you are.” Albus reached up and touched Gellert’s face. “There’s the man I love.”  
He kissed Gellert gently and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.  
“You’re not alone, you know. Upending the world is too big of a job for any one wizard, even you. But I am with you, and we have already set the pieces in motion. Things are changing already, and we left home less than a month ago.”  
Gellert buried his face in Albus’ shoulder. “I hope so.”  
“Gellert, Love? Shall we stay here? Or shall we apparate back to bed?”  
“Let’s go back home.”  
Albus knew what Gellert meant – wherever they shared a bed was home.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Two weeks later, when they came home for the evening, Gellert took Albus by the hand.  
“I have a surprise for you.” And then he disapparated them back to the beach.  
Albus’ knees buckled. “That was – unexpected.”  
The moon was more than half full – it sparkled in the water and dimmed the stars.  
He gazed at Gellert, at his night and day eyes, his hair almost glowing in the moonlight.  
Why were they here this time?

“They are not there,” Gellert said, gesturing to the south. “They are not there now, and they may never be there. If I tell you so often to cherish the present, it is because I sometimes need reminding myself. The future is so real to me – even knowing that the futures I see may never be real. Seeing it is enough to – no, what is important is that you are here now, we are here together now. You are real, and this breeze coming off the ocean is real, this night, these lips,” and here he kissed Albus. He kissed him and didn’t stop kissing him for a very long time.  
“There is more life in this place than there is death. Help me, will you, Love? Help me be here now, with you, in this place under this sky?”

In an instant, Albus transfigured his coat into a blanket and conjured a transparent barrier to keep the blowing sand off of their skin. Then he undressed Gellert slowly, by hand, tracing every inch of his skin as it was exposed. He lowered Gellert’s trousers and dropped to his knees. He took Gellert’s cock into his mouth just as slowly, making his husband whine. Then he hummed, because he could not get enough of the way Gellert would moan in response to the vibration. He removed his mouth long enough to look Gellert in the eyes and say, “I love you,” before returning to his chosen means of anchoring Gellert in the now.

That night they lay on the beach and made love and snoozed and gazed at the sky. The moon was well past its zenith when Albus, laying contentedly on his belly, his head resting on his arms, felt Gellert reverently tracing the eight-pointed star on his back with a fingertip. Then Gellert kissed the mark and whispered, only just loud enough for Albus to hear, “My peace, my life, my rest, my sanity. You are my everything, Albus Dumbledore.” And Albus drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, the world was not quite as dark as it had been when he had fallen asleep.  
“Gellert?”  
“Oh good. I didn’t know if I’d be able to wake you that way.”  
Gellert was standing at a bit of a distance, and a conjured pillow was lying on Albus’ back.  
“Were you – hitting me with a pillow from a distance?”  
“From a _safe_ distance, Liebling. Waking you is hazardous.”

Albus sat and stretched. “And why did you feel the need to wake me?”  
“Equinox.”  
Albus yawned. “Equinox?”  
“Yes – the moment when the days are equally short and long? When the pole is pointed neither towards nor away from the sun?”

“I know what an equinox is, Arse. I am asking if today is the equinox.”  
“I cannot believe you do not track these things, Liebling. It makes all of the difference to one’s magic. You probably couldn’t even tell me when the last full moon was.”  
“Umm. It was – a few days ago? Or – it will be in a few days. One of those.”  
“In other words, you were looking at it earlier, and could see that it was appearing in its gibbous state.”

Albus groaned in exasperation. Gellert could not resist gloating when he knew something Albus did not.  
“Just tell me, please.”  
“Very well. This is a very auspicious day to be on the coast of France. The moment of the equinox is coinciding perfectly with the dawn in just this place. And I didn’t even plan a ritual to take advantage of it, because I was rathering to have sex with you, so.”  
Albus stood. “But! That means the equinox must be –“  
“Just minutes away, yes. Come! Let us watch the sun rise!”

Gellert took off running, and Albus followed him. They stood together, waist deep in the water, as the sun rose over the ocean. Afterwards, they swam and splashed one another, and Albus prayed to whoever was listening that Gellert was truly finding his balance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Albus. Gellert would totally give up his magic before he gave you up. 
> 
> *******************
> 
> Am I still in the mature range here? I feel like I am when I apply [the envelope test](https://tinsnip.tumblr.com/post/94902447909/okay-so-im-actually-about-to-write-a-porn-fic),  
> But let me know if y'all think I'm veering into explicit territory.
> 
> (UPDATE: I did more than simply 'veer into explicit territory' - future chapters will be increasingly explicit - you have been advised)


	12. Art Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Albus takes Gellert to the Louvre?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place concurrent with the previous chapter ("On the Beach") – the events of this ‘bonus scene’ take place over a week and a half – during the two week gap between their second visit to the beach (when Gellert talks about his vision) and their third visit (for the equinox).
> 
> It was originally part of that chapter, since I've been trying to keep things sorted more or less chronologically, but it made the chapter too long, as well as unfocused (it definitely messed up the flow), so I cut it. 
> 
> But I kept thinking about it, because I really liked it. And there are details in there that will be important later on.  
> So here it is – sort of an out-of-sequence interlude or outtake, or something.
> 
> Update 19 September 2019:  
> I had first posted this in the chapter 14 position - just reordered the chapters today to get closer to the correct place chronologically.

Chapter 10½  
Paris, September 1899

Albus did not complain about Gellert to anyone. It wasn’t a policy he had, or a decision he had intentionally made. He hadn’t considered it and then decided that it would not be respectful. It just hadn’t come up. Any complaints he had about Gellert were not, properly speaking, complaints at all. Some of Gellert’s behaviours might annoy him for a moment – his teasing humour in particular – but Albus’ feelings of annoyance were always quickly replaced by fond affection – or, more often, an overwhelming desire to start tearing his clothes off. 

So Albus didn’t – and didn’t need to – process Gellert’s behaviour with anyone… until after taking him to a Muggle art gallery for the first time.

Three days after the ill-fated trip, Albus was having a picnic lunch with Astride and Jean Pierre while Gellert was in the ministry, chatting up the witch in charge of the records room.  
Gellert was good at getting women to do things for him. It seemed to Albus to be a dubious talent. It did result in Gellert getting access to all sorts of information he couldn’t have seen otherwise, but it seemed unfair to the witches, who really got nothing out of the transaction aside from getting to look at Gellert for half an hour. (Not that that was not a worthwhile prize. Nevertheless...)

“It is too bad that Gellert is working so hard all the time,” Astride remarked. “He could be out having fun with us!”  
Albus growled.  
It was _not_ particularly hard work for Gellert to be charming. But at least when talking to witches, Gellert couldn’t say anything stupid. He could make the poor girls fall in love with him in short order, but at least he wasn’t going to get himself killed or arrested over it. Probably.  
Astride and Jean Pierre looked at one another warily.

Jean Pierre was the one to ask, “Is everything alright, Albus?”  
“Of course it is! The sun is a little hotter than I had thought it might be, but I shouldn’t complain. It will be winter soon enough.”  
“Not so soon –“ replied Jean Pierre slowly, as if confused.  
“That reminds me!” said Astride. “The grape harvest!”  
“Oh yes! Right – Albus doesn’t know! My grandfather, he’s a wizard, but he inherited a Muggle vineyard. His own grandparents – I think? – were Muggles. This seems like the sort of thing that would interest Gellert! We should all go together for the harvest – it looks like it will be next week.”

“I’m sure it would interest him,” Albus muttered, “but I’m not at all sure that he should be allowed to go.”  
Astride and Jean Pierre looked at one another again.  
Astride began carefully. “Did something – it seems that perhaps Gellert –“  
“Did something stupid?” Jean Pierre continued for her.  
“Jean Pierre!”

Jean Pierre was a bit easier to read than Astride, but somewhat less observant, so he decided to risk it with Astride.  
Ah. Apparently it had become an unspoken rule among the people their age that no one was to say anything critical about Gellert in front of Albus, and vice versa.  
And so it was uncomfortable to be in the position of feeling that Albus had a criticism to offer, because it was unclear if such a thing was acceptable to talk about, or even ask about, even if Albus initiated it.  
Or, it was uncomfortable for Astride, at least – he’d have to read Jean Pierre too, to say for sure about him. But it seemed safe to guess that Jean Pierre was not quite as cautious as Astride, given what he had said earlier. Taking time to read him as well would not be worth the effort.

Albus sighed heavily. He leaned back on his hands, and looked up at the canopy of still green leaves. Perhaps it would help to talk about it. Clearly he was not hiding his foul temper very well.  
“I took Gellert to the Louvre a few days ago,” adding, for Jean Pierre’s sake, “a Muggle art museum.”  
Astride smiled. “Oh! Lovely!”  
“Well, I had imagined that it would be a nice afternoon out, but Gellert…“

The truth was that it had been a disaster, as far as Albus was concerned. They hadn’t been there five minutes before Gellert had said something that would alarm, or at least catch the attention of almost any Muggle: “The pictures are not moving!”  
Albus had turned to Gellert at that point, looked at him with raised eyebrows, and shook his head subtly.  
Gellert was still having trouble ‘speaking Muggle,’ so Albus had specifically told him to _not say anything_ when they were in the art museum, aside from, ‘We don’t want to be late for lunch’ (code for ‘let’s leave’), and ‘This one is interesting, what do you think?’ (code for ‘please take a look in my head, I am bursting to share something right this instant and can’t wait any longer.’)

“We don’t want to be late for lunch,” Albus had said, pointedly.  
But Gellert apparently hadn’t at all understood why Albus was so concerned, replying, “It is not nearly time for lunch yet. Let’s go into that room –“  
“Gallery.”  
“That gallery over there.”

And so they had. Albus couldn’t very well drag Gellert out bodily, because it would cause a scene. (Also because Gellert was stronger than he was, but that was not the point.)  
Albus then did what he should have done from the beginning – cast a speech muddling charm on them. Given all the other things Gellert had to say, it was a good thing he had invented that charm, because otherwise it would have been difficult to perform obliviations on so large a scale as would have been required.  
Gellert, naturally, saw the afternoon as an unmitigated success, and now wanted to see all the art that he could in Paris – in galleries, in exhibitions of new work, in churches… Albus wanted to tear his hair out. He loved Gellert’s enthusiasm – ordinarily – but his husband was about to reveal the wizarding world to Muggles inadvertently, ahead of schedule, and with no real plan.

Astride waited for Albus to mentally return.  
“Let me guess. You didn’t tell him that the pictures don’t move?”  
Jean Pierre looked incredulous. “Muggle pictures don’t move?!”  
Astride rolled her eyes. “Hush, Love. We can talk later about how to avoid ruining an outing to a Muggle art museum. Carry on, Albus.”

“Well, no. It didn’t occur to me that I would have to tell him. Muggles don’t have magic – obviously their pictures wouldn’t move. They can’t draw water from the air, like we can; they can’t apparate like we can; they can’t levitate objects like we can… Gellert knows all of this, so why would he expect their pictures to move?”

“Albus, you are thinking like a Halfblood – taking your comparative knowledge of both worlds for granted.”  
Albus snorted and grumbled, “You’re a Halfblood too, Astride.”  
Astride laughed, “Yes I am. And I would have made the same mistake – I would have taken Jean Pierre to the Louvre with no explanation – if it were not for the fact that my best friend is a Muggleborn artist.  
“Think, Albus – what is the difference between Aguamenti, Wingardium Leviosa, and Apparition, on the one hand, and magical portraits on the other hand?”

It only took Albus a moment to spot the solution.  
“Oh! Wands!”  
“Yes, more or less. Basically, if Gellert sees a spell performed, it is obvious that magic has been used. But the paintings he has seen all of his life – they just move – and there is no one there moving them. They seem to – move on their own. The same way that the hands of a clock move on their own. How should he know that one is animated by magic and the other is not? He had never been inside a Muggle house before this month.”

Albus was stunned. Gellert had often suggested that there were cultural differences between Purebloods, Halfbloods, and Muggleborns – but it had never occurred to Albus how difficult it might be to untangle what all of those differences might be.  
“Thank you Astride. I would say that I owe Gellert an apology, but I’m not sure he is aware how frustrated I was with him.”

Jean Pierre looked at Astride and rolled his eyes. “I’ll take this one, Cherie.”  
Then he turned to Albus, “Don’t be so sure. We knew, and Gellert knows you much better than we do. He knows. Besides, he’ll probably be really excited about Astride’s explanation – ‘more data,’ and so on. And offering an unnecessary apology is always better than failing to offer a necessary one.”  
Albus laughed. “You are probably right.”

The conversation turned from there to Jean Pierre’s mother, and the progress she was making with his father, advocating for his engagement to Astride. From there they moved on to discussing the Oceanic – and whether the new larger trans-Atlantic passenger ships would result in more Wizards travelling to and from America, or if the political situation in America made travel prohibitive, regardless of the increasing ease of getting there.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus, as usual, had not shared the most important part of the story:  
The gallery that Gellert had dragged them to next had been filled with religious paintings, and Gellert had been transfixed by the images of blood and death and torture and ecstasy. He had become obsessed with the crucifixions, gesturing excitedly and moving back and forth between one crucifixion scene and another, comparing them. He had stood before a painting of Saint Sebastian for so long that he became conspicuous. He had quailed before a large painting of a severed head on a silver platter.  
Gellert had asked Albus many questions –  
“Who shot that boy with all of those arrows?”  
“Who is this almost naked man? Why is he nailed to a piece of wood?”  
“Is it the same man in all of these pictures?”  
And repeatedly: “But why would anyone want a painting of this?”  
And on and on.  
Gellert had been upset and confused, and uncertain how it was possible for the Muggles in the gallery to be seemingly so detached, so unaffected when viewing these violent paintings. When he invited Albus to take a look in his mind (‘That one is interesting…’), Gellert’s thoughts were such a confused swirl that Albus pulled out right away, lest he be tempted to find rest in some calmer corner of Gellert’s mind where he had not been invited to go. 

So Albus had shared what he hoped would be enough to satisfy Gellert so they could leave the museum.  
The problem was that Albus didn’t know much about Christianity, so he couldn’t help all that much. But he had a little bit of experience: he would sometimes go to church with his grandmother, and a few times he had hidden from his family by going to worship in the church in whatever village they were living in at the time.  
As a child, he had noticed what Gellert was noticing now – it seemed like there was a lot of torture in Christianity – as if surviving and overcoming torture were an important part not only of Christian history, but of Christian identity as well.  
So he told Gellert that, and also that many Christians had been tortured for their beliefs, and that their god had died by torture himself. He pointed to one of the many crucifixions that had captured Gellert’s attention: “That is the Christian god Jesus being tortured to death. That event was called the crucifixion, and Christians celebrate his death every year.”  
Finally, Albus had off-handedly added that he had heard that many churches in Paris had coloured glass windows with pictures like this.

Gellert stopped Albus at that point.  
“We can go to lunch soon, but I’m not sure that I was seeing these properly before.”  
And he returned to one of the paintings and spent a very long time examining it, with a frown on his face. 

In retrospect, Albus realized that he was not actually annoyed that Gellert had been so – unconsciously Wizard – amongst the Muggles. Or, at least his annoyance at that behaviour had faded before they made it back to their room that day. What was annoying him now – no, worrying – what was worrying him now was that Gellert had still not spoken to him about what he was thinking, after having seen those paintings. Albus could tell it was still troubling him, but he didn’t know why. All he knew was that Gellert was insistent that he needed to see more crucifixions.  
Albus suspected, in fact, that some of the times when Gellert was off ‘doing research,’ he was actually visiting church buildings. But in spite of Albus having asked – twice – what was on Gellert’s mind, the only thing that Gellert would answer was, “Patience, Liebling.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Nearly a week later, they stopped by the fountains at Place de la Concorde, and stayed there for more than half an hour, while Gellert watched the water falling. Albus could admit that it was relaxing, following an individual drop as it fell, then another, or watching the way the streams of water changed course slightly, or the way the water would seem to pulse, if you looked at it just right. Then he watched the way the surface of the still water was troubled by the water that fell into it. But that took him about five minutes, and Gellert was still watching the fountain.  
Albus would have preferred, at that point, to simply study Gellert as Gellert studied the water, but that sort of thing was unacceptable in public. So he watched everyone else – the different people passing by. It occurred to him that everyone was in costume – dressed to perform a role. People wanted you to decide who they were based on their hat, their dress, their suit jacket, their parasol, their shoes. But their faces so often told a story far more interesting than their clothes. After a few minutes of simply observing the expressions of people walking by, he started trying to pull specific information from them as they passed – something not at the top of their head – such as the name of the town where they had lived as a small child.  
Albus was so caught up in practicing that when Gellert finally spoke to him, his voice sounded far away.  
“Albus? Let’s go back to the room.”

When they got back to the room, Gellert climbed into bed and sat against the headboard, his legs propped up and spread wide in a posture that Albus recognized as an invitation to sit between Gellert’s legs, with his back against Gellert’s chest, so that Gellert could hold him.  
The first time Gellert had done this, Albus had been confused – it seemed that the point of such a posture would be to comfort Albus, and Albus was feeling fine. But it soon became clear that Gellert held Albus this way when he was wanting to be comforted himself, particularly when he was talking about something so difficult that he didn’t want to have to look at Albus while he said it.

So Albus obliged him, allowing Gellert to wrap his arms around him, pull him back against his chest, and hook his chin over Albus’ shoulder.  
It was hard not to ask, but Albus had learned that when Gellert held him like this, it was important to just wait for him, so he did. He relaxed into Gellert’s chest and he waited.  
The purpose might be to comfort Gellert, but it seemed to Albus that there was nothing Gellert could say that might be too frightening to be borne so long as Gellert was holding him like this – Gellert was so warm and strong, and there was no safer feeling in the world than being surrounded by him.  
Albus couldn’t have said how long they’d been sitting there before Gellert spoke.  
“The death in the art gallery, in the churches. It is beautiful. Death isn’t beautiful, but these Muggles, they have made it seem beautiful. They have made these paintings that lie about death.” 

“I’m not sure that they are a lie, Gellert – they aren’t meant to be taken literally.”  
“Aren’t they? You said these are paintings of their god – of the most important thing they believe in.”  
“Well, I’m not sure how many people really think that Jesus is the most important thing – even among Christians. I mean, my grandmother – I think she would have taken her garden over Jesus if forced to choose, and she went to church!”

“For all the stars, Albus! I am being serious!”  
Albus knew better than to interrupt Gellert when he was this upset. Albus was just so tense himself, from having worried about Gellert for a week and a half. He had been feeling like Gellert was shutting him out, and he still felt a bit raw and weary over it.

“I’m so sorry, Love. I shouldn’t have interrupted you. Please don’t stop – I do want to know what you’ve been thinking about.”  
Gellert was silent a bit longer, perhaps gathering up the courage to start again.  
“This man – this Jesus – he is beautiful – he looks sad and kind, and his arms are stretched wide. They paint him beautiful, they sculpt him beautiful. They make these beautiful windows of coloured glass full of Jesus and death...”  
Yes, it was as Albus had suspected. Gellert had been taking field trips without him. Though that might actually have been safer – he would not have had any reason to make observations out loud without Albus there. 

“These Muggles – they think that death is beautiful, and they celebrate submitting to torture and murder. Such people will keep fighting even when it is clear that they can’t win – if they think that what they are fighting for is right, then it doesn’t matter what happens to them in battle. They will sacrifice everything. Such people are dangerous.”

Albus wasn’t sure how to respond. He wanted to reassure Gellert, but he didn’t want to sound like he was dismissing his concerns. The idea of someone fighting without any fear of death was certainly frightening – such a person could cause a great deal of needless damage. Nevertheless, he didn’t think it was as big a concern as Gellert feared.

“I don’t know Gellert. I don’t think that most people, even most Christians, look at a painting of the crucifixion, and say, ‘death by torture is beautiful – that’s what I want to do!’ Of course there will be Christians who will fight past the point of what is reasonable – fight when it is clear that they can’t win, or even enter a fight knowing they will die – and there are Wizards like that, too. That’s stubbornness – and I imagine it can be found in other Muggles who aren’t Christian, too.”  
“I don’t think that it is just stubbornness, Albus – I think that it is conviction.”

This line of thinking was making Albus nervous.  
“Conviction?”  
“Yes – there is a difference between conviction – fighting because you have something you believe in – and stubbornness – fighting because now that you have started, you are determined to continue.”  
“Yes – I suppose...” Was Gellert more stubborn? Or more... convinced? Either way, what did that mean for the likelihood of him going down fighting?

“Albus? What do you truly think about this? If Christians do not look at these paintings and see an enticement to die for their beliefs, then what do they see? You say they are not to be taken literally – so what, then, do these crucifixions mean?”  
“Well, my grandmother would say they mean love.”  
“Love?”  
“She said that people felt distant from God – Christians just have the one God – the God of all things – and she said that people didn’t know how to get back to God, so Jesus let himself be killed so people could find God again.”

“I thought you said that Jesus was their god. That’s two gods.”  
“It’s complicated. I don’t really understand it. But the important thing about the crucifixion, my grandmother would say, is that Jesus loved each individual person who would ever live so much that it was worth dying for them.”  
“But, this is even worse! The idea that submitting to torture – well, yes, ok, torture I could see – but the idea that submitting to murder could be an act of love? How many misguided deaths might that inspire?”

Gellert and Albus were silent for a while after Gellert said that. Albus didn’t know what Gellert was thinking about, but Albus was thinking that, while he would certainly be _willing_ to die for Gellert, he didn’t think Gellert would want him to – after all, that would leave Gellert alone without him. He began to feel a bit melancholy, considering life without Gellert if Gellert were to die for him. It wouldn’t be much of a gift, if it meant having to live without him. Better for them to die together, ideally.

Gellert broke the silence.“I don’t think I can believe this.”  
“Which part?”  
“Any of it.”  
“Well, I may not have explained it very well.”  
“So you believe it then?”  
That was a question Albus had never given much thought to.  
“I don’t know. The one God part? Maybe. The rest? The rest doesn’t make much sense to me.”  
“Especially the dying part.”  
“Yes, especially the dying part.”  
Especially the dying part. Did Gellert really mean that? He had said that it was ‘misguided’ to die for love, but only that it was ‘dangerous’ to have an opponent willing to die for their convictions. Would Gellert...?

“Gellert?”  
“Albus?”  
Albus laughed nervously. It wasn’t funny, really – it was just odd to feel the relief, the comfort of that playful calling of one another’s names they so often did – odd to feel that comfort at the same time he was completely falling apart. 

“You – you were saying about convictions?”  
Gellert was defined by his convictions. They were travelling the world because of his convictions. He had been expelled from Durmstrang for his convictions... 

“Gellert –“ his voice broke. “Gellert, I need to – I need to see you – please.”  
“Of course.”  
Gellert lowered his legs, and released Albus from his arms, so that he could move. Albus turned around and straddled Gellert, holding his face in both his hands. Without even realizing he was doing it, he vanished Gellert’s shirt, and his own. He needed to feel Gellert's warm skin against his own.  
Albus buried his face in Gellert’s shoulder, inhaling deeply. Then he looked up and began anxiously twining his fingers in Gellert’s hair, while searching his face desperately.

“Albus? What is it? Liebling?”  
“I need you to – please Gellert – promise me that you’ll never – nothing is worth your death, Gellert. Nothing. I –“

Gellert took Albus hands and kissed his palms, first one, then the other.  
“Albus – I thought you understood. Dying is not on the agenda.”  
“But – you were saying about convictions, and about people continuing to fight even when they know they can’t win, and you are so committed to overturning the Statute of Secrecy, and I don’t want to lose you!”  
Albus had been speaking faster and faster, and his voice getting louder and louder, until he was almost shouting the last words. 

Gellert sighed. “Albus. Listen to me. I have already chosen _you_. Above everything else.”  
“I don’t understand –“  
Gellert wrapped one arm around Albus, and used his other hand to cradle Albus’ head. He drew him in and kissed him. Albus felt dizzy. Gods, Gellert was good at that. And gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous. 

“Albus, I _married_ you – I named you most important in my life, above anything. Above the Muggle Problem even, ok? I love you. There is no conviction I have higher than the conviction that I need to be here for you. If I run off and die, how can I keep my vows? How could I take care of you, or be your support and your help and your friend and your lover? Now do you understand what I mean when I say I have already chosen you? I have already promised not to leave you, and I won’t.”

“Oh Gellert! I just – you were talking about convictions, and I – I can’t live without you.”  
“You won’t have to, mein Schatz. I promise. There is no reason for either of us ever to leave the other.”  
“That sounds – unrealistic, Gellert.”  
“We shall see.”

We shall see? Albus was – not able to talk about this right now. This conversation had been difficult enough. Now Gellert was talking about... immortality? He could have meant something else by never leaving each other, but he had also said, ‘death is not on the agenda.’ 

No. Albus could wait to discuss – whatever it was that Gellert had meant by this. Right now, kissing Gellert seemed far more important - and necessary to reassure and recenter them both.

But before the analytical part of his brain shut off, he promised himself that he would not wait long before asking Gellert what he had meant. Trying to defeat death had driven wizards mad, and he was no more interested in losing Gellert to insanity than he was in losing Gellert to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Face it, Albus – you do find something about Gellert annoying – you are annoyed any time Gellert flirts with someone not you.  
> But cut your husband some slack, dear – he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it half the time.


	13. About Vinda...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is Albus' turn to be needlessly jealous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to go ahead and up the rating here to explicit. It may or may not be called for yet, but I'm working a few chapters ahead, and it is becoming clear that a rating change is inevitable - might as well do it now

Chapter 11  
October 1899

Albus woke to Gellert’s fingers running up and down his thigh. He had an aching erection to match the one Gellert had pressed up tightly against his arse. Gellert whispered in his ear, “Let me touch you, Albus. Please. Need you.”  
Albus appreciated that Gellert was respecting his ‘wait until I’m fully awake’ rule, but –  
“Gellert,” Albus groaned, “I feel raw all over. No part of me has been left untouched. At least twice.”  
“But that was _yesterday_ ,” Gellert whined. “Besides, there are spells for that. You could patch yourself up instantly. Or I could.”  
True. There _were_ spells for that. Spells that he usually cast before bed, but had simply been too exhausted to cast last night. And right now, sensation was radiating in all directions from Gellert’s touch – his need for Gellert was growing second by second.

Albus cast the necessary healing spells, and while he was at it, spells to ready himself for Gellert.  
He turned to look over his shoulder. “Yes, Love,” Gellert’s hand was on his cock in a flash. Merlin, that man could move quickly when motivated. “Please –“  
For just a moment, he realized that he had not spoken out loud his ‘but just once and then breakfast’ condition. But as Gellert pressed one finger in him, then two, he forgot everything but the anticipation of Gellert’s body merging with his.

“Ah – “ Albus cried out as Gellert entered him. 

Gellert would later complain that it was a difficult position (‘no leverage’), but Albus had loved waking up this way – the sex felt sleepy almost, slower, and the transition between waking up and having Gellert inside of him was seamless – almost as if waking itself could be seductive. Gellert agreed that it was thrilling to realize that they could go from sleeping to fucking without changing the way their bodies were arranged. Nevertheless, he maintained that Albus would be the one to ‘do all the work’ next time. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Washed, dressed, and fed, Albus and Gellert took up their now customary positions in the room: Albus sitting on the bed, and Gellert at the table beside the window. Gellert had declared this to be a ‘strategy session’ morning. (As opposed to a research morning, or a visiting morning, or a lying about morning, or a morning for practicing magic.)  
“I think we have been in Paris long enough,” Gellert began.  
“I like Paris.”  
Gellert made a dismissive gesture. “Myself, I have never liked Paris – Parisians think Paris is the only city in Europe. It is a self-congratulatory overgrown hamlet. You, Love, you are what makes Paris worthwhile.”

Albus considered this. It was perhaps the case that his feelings for France were confused with his feelings for Gellert. He was free to be with the man he loved here. Every day he woke up in Gellert’s arms, and every day they planned together what they would do, where they would go.  
Paris would always be the place where they had made their blood pact – where they had married – where they had been marked as belonging to one another.  
And he was likely also influenced by Paris being the first place ever that he had _chosen_ to be – the first place he had been just Albus, not defined by his family.  
But to be fair, that was not all he liked about Paris – there was an energy to this city – it felt like a place that was leaning into the future. The parks and the buildings and the public art were beautiful. And the coffee was outstanding.  
He was fairly certain that Gellert had also had a better time here than he was letting on – not least because they had met so many people who were open to his vision – they had made connections that would serve them well in the future.

“Hmm. Let’s – agree to disagree about the relative tolerability of Paris. But I will concede that the best part of anywhere we could possibly go has been and will always be you. Wherever we go next we will be together, so I will agree to move on, if that’s what you want. But I will miss the cafes.”  
Gellert smirked. “Yes, it is going to be difficult to pull you away from a country that thinks it important to have a government department devoted to magical food. But I think that you will find that there are things worth _eating_ everywhere.”  
Albus quirked an eyebrow. “I think you said that on purpose.”  
“Ah, but can you know for certain, Love? So – I am thinking Turin next.”

“Turin?”  
“There’s a train to Turin, and I have never been on a train.”  
Albus, who had taken the train to and from Hogwarts every year, thought that there was nothing particularly exciting about a train. But he was not going to say anything about it. Let Gellert draw his own conclusions. At least it would give him a feel for how ludicrously time-consuming Muggle travel was. But in any case, surely the train to Turin was not the only train leaving Paris.  
“I had assumed that we would go to Germany next.”

Before arriving in Paris, Albus never would have thought that he would have been suggesting that they go to Germany. But the first time Gellert had met someone new, he had told them that he had attended Durmstrang, but ‘because I had advanced beyond the usual curriculum, I finished my schooling early.’  
When Albus questioned it later, Gellert had told him that that was in fact the official story. His father was on Durmstrang’s governing board, and had arranged for a narrative that would ‘not shame the Grindelwald name.’ So it seemed obvious to Albus that there was no obstacle to Gellert returning to the familiar places of his childhood.

“Why would we do that?”  
“Well, since you are German, I thought you might want to –“  
“German – what is German? I am not German – I am Bavarian!”  
Albus had not been aware that Gellert was Bavarian, but it did not seem to him to be a very important distinction.  
“Bavaria is part of Germany.”  
“After a fashion. Not everyone agrees with this. In any case, it is a recent development, and only the Muggle government has changed for now. Muggle politics are so changeable - what has changed once can change again. Wizarding Bavaria will not be uniting with Wizarding Prussia anytime soon.”  
Albus personally found this to be delusional, but he knew better than to voice this opinion. 

Instead, he said, “You speak German to me. I thought Bavarians – don’t you have your own – dialect? Language – something? Are you speaking Bavarian? Did I miss the differences?”  
“You are more inquisitive than a monkey. Yes, you are right that I have been speaking German to you. And yes, I grew up speaking Bavarian – but also High German, because really only Bavarians speak Bavarian. Well, and Austrians. But among the wealthier Wizards, Bavarian is not spoken unless it cannot be avoided. I learned it only because my father said that it was important for a Grindelwald to be able to speak the 'language of the common people.' If he no longer wants me to be a Grindelwald, then there is no purpose in me speaking Bavarian any longer.”  
Albus wasn’t sure this was the right choice – it seemed that Gellert was cutting off a part of himself – that he was letting a handful of hateful people tell him who he was and who he could be. And it was certainly seemed inconsistent to Albus that Gellert would identify so strongly as Bavarian and refuse to speak Bavarian. But Albus didn’t need to push this now, he felt. It hadn’t been very long since Gellert had been exiled – he could wait to bring it up until more time had passed.

“So, Italy then.”  
“Italy. There are few options for getting past Germany without going through it. So – Italy.”  
Given his little outburst that he was not German, but Bavarian, Albus wasn’t sure why they had to avoid all of Germany, rather than just avoiding Bavaria.  
For a moment, he questioned whether he was being too circumspect – this was the third reservation he was tabling in less than twenty minutes – but he had to admit that if they followed up his every question, they would end up on a series of tangents, rather than ever coming to a conclusion. It was just so hard to know what would be relevant and what wouldn’t, sometimes.

“Albus?”  
“Yes! Italy, you were saying. When?”  
“In ten days, perhaps? First, we need to catalogue our findings – verify that we have indeed accomplished all that we meant to do here. And we need to say goodbye to everyone, including formally taking our leave from all of the Pureblood families we have been in contact with while we've been here. We need to be prepared for the possibility that the Allards will want to host some sort of party in our honour, which may mean delaying our departure. We will need to make some travel arrangements, and –“  
“And go to the cinema?”  
“Yes, sure, we can go the cinema. And to the opera, and buy you pastries. And have so much sex. But we have to work, too.”

“Who are you, and what did you do to my husband?”  
Gellert frowned. “What does this mean?”  
“I’m just saying that I’m surprised that there is anything but sex on your list of things you want to accomplish in the next ten days.”  
Gellert barked out a laugh. “Well, there is sex, and there is also The Muggle Problem. That makes two items on the list.”  
“Oh yes, true. And learning to become an Animagus. Though I suppose you could continue to work on that in Turin.”  
“And sex.”  
“We already said sex!”  
“It bears saying twice,” Gellert said with a smile.

Albus sighed. “And Vinda.”  
Gellert looked confused. “What? What about Vinda?”  
“Well, spending time with her seems to be on your list, these days.”

Gellert got up from the chair, and came around to the bed, to sit against the headboard next to Albus. He laid his head on Albus’ shoulder.  
“Remember how you told me I needed to work on being less jealous?”  
“I said less _possessive_. Possessive and jealous are two different things, Gellert! And anyway, this is no idle worry – her parents think you are going to marry her!”  
The entire Rosier family had been trying to match Gellert to Vinda since they had met him. Gellert had not discouraged them outright, instead pointing out that he was in no position to take on new responsibilities at this time, given his travel plans.

“Albus, Love. Even Lord Rosier does not believe that I am planning to marry Vinda.”  
“But he continues to recommend her to you, and you pay her attention –“  
“We have discussed this – in fact you are the one who brought it up – it would be dangerous for us if people knew the true nature of our relationship. It will look suspicious for us if we reject every suit out of hand without so much as an excuse. Better to show mild interest than no interest.”  
He pulled Albus onto his lap and kissed him. “But rest assured that I have _no interest_.”  
Albus sighed. “I know. I know you don’t. It is just so hard to see the way she looks at you, the way she touches your hand, and to know that I will never get to do that in public. That there will be other women who touch you like that, and look at you like that. And it means nothing, I know it means nothing. But I wish I could lay my hand on your arm, and dance with you, instead of waiting to even _look at you_ the way I want to until we get back to the safety of our room. That is what I am jealous of.”  
“Yes, of course. I understand. And I think we both know that I am going to be intolerable, when your time comes.”

Albus was not looking forward to women flirting with him any more than Gellert was. But before he could say so, Gellert continued, “But this list of yours, with the sex and The Muggle Problem and the learning new things… you are wrong, you know? You are the only thing on my list of important things.”  
That could not possibly be true, and Albus cocked up one eyebrow to communicate this to Gellert.  
“Ok, yes, there are other things on the list. But you are the _most_ important. You will accept this?”

Albus kissed Gellert, then pulled back and looked into his eyes, the eyes of the man he loved. He laid his hand on Gellert’s neck and traced his jaw line with his thumb before kissing him again.  
“Yes. Yes, that I believe. But – moving down your list…”  
“Oh yes?” Gellert’s eyes got wider, and he placed his hand on Albus’ chest.  
“Oh no, not talking about sex now, Love. I believe you said something about reviewing what we have learned and accomplished so far.”

“Now?”  
“Yes, now. Strategy session morning, you said. We will have plenty of time for sex after lunch.”  
“And after dinner?”  
“And in the middle of the night, even – sure.”  
“I know better than to try to wake you in the middle of the night.”  
Albus laughed, remembering Gellert telling him about trying to wake him one night, and Albus startling half-awake just long enough to shout, ‘Go away,’ hit Gellert, and fall back asleep. This was probably not so funny for Gellert, upon reflection.  
“Good point.”

“Can you stay on my lap, at least?”  
“This is not all that comfortable, really. Let me lay on your chest?”  
And so they lay in the bed together, reviewing their new connections, Artaud’s new position at the newspaper, their tours of Muggle Paris, Orleans, Tours, and Rouen. They spoke about Astride’s Muggle grandparents in Belgium, who had participated in the strikes for social equality, and who had explained what factories were, and told the stories passed down about the ways southern Belgium had changed with the introduction of industry.  
They spoke about Gellert’s research in the French Ministry’s library, and in private collections across France. He had finally gotten an invitation to visit with the Headmaster at Beauxbatons to learn about how they handled Muggleborn students and their families, as well as to peruse their library. He had spent two days there the week before. It was the first time in six weeks that he and Albus had been separated for longer than three or four hours. 

They talked for hours, until they became hungry.  
Gellert went out to get food for them (they were trying to save money, and he was generally better at confounding Muggles into simply giving him bread and cheese and apples.) They ate together in bed.  
Albus always took longer to finish than Gellert. When he tossed his apple core, Gellert exhaled, “Finally!”  
He wrapped his arms around Albus and snogged him thoroughly. “I have been waiting for ‘after lunch’ all morning.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The next day saw them preparing for a ‘garden party’ at the Rosier estate. It was, of course, not a garden party at all, given the season, but a luncheon in the conservatory. Apparently, Lady Rosier adored garden parties and was known for trying to stretch the season.  
Albus was grateful that he had been sorted into Slytherin. Unlike Gellert, he had not grown up as part of Pureblood society – but he had taken care to learn Pureblood etiquette and traditions from his housemates. Anyone who wanted to achieve anything in the Wizarding world needed the patronage of one or more Purebloods.  
That was one of the things that he and Gellert were going to change. Wizards were created equal - the difference between Muggles and Magicals was the only distinction of importance – a difference in power, in perspective, even in constitution. The only difference between Purebloods, Halfbloods, and Muggleborns was cultural. That could be overcome. The class divisions between Wizards was holding back Wizarding society as a whole. But for now, they would not get far if they were not willing to play by the rules… 

Even so, the Rosiers were, in Albus’ opinion, not a particularly important family for them to cultivate. He had instead flagged the Dupuis and Allard families, as Gellert’s research had uncovered that they had been the families who had lost the most to the institution of the Statute of Secrecy: they had been heavily invested in a number of Muggle businesses, and been forced to cut ties with some wealthy and powerful Muggles. It seemed likely that they still did some business in the Muggle world, though to a lesser extent. But the taint among Purebloods of dealing with Muggles at all would keep these dealings in the dark, even more than the law itself did. They were vocal supporters of total separation from Muggles, but Albus had suspected that this was a smokescreen. Weeks of cautious after-dinner conversations had proven him correct, and as a result, they now had a political toe-hold in France.  
They had been fortunate to build a close connection with the Viterre family. Artaud had been the real prize in that transaction, but it was not unwelcome to have a third Pureblood family embrace them as part of their network of influence.  
The Rosier patriarch, on the other hand, struck Albus as both less shrewd and more fickle than Mr. Allard and Lord Dupuis. His wife was fine – Albus was not convinced that she was as dim as she let on. But Vinda, their daughter, was positively terrifying. As far as Albus was concerned, the Rosier party would not have been worth attending were it not for the other families who would be there. 

Gellert, as ever, broke him out of his reverie.  
“Albus. You cannot wear that vest. It is too heavy for the weather – and the conservatory will be quite warm. Wear the acromantula silk instead.”  
“I wore that one last time. People will notice.”  
“Just put it on, Albus.”  
Gellert tipped his head, then waved his wand. The contentious vest shifted from charcoal grey to a golden colour, the shade of a sunflower. The shirt changed from pale grey to a shade browner than ecru, and the robe and trousers changed a matching shade of moss green. The glamour even included a ribbon of sunflower gold, edging the robe and tying it thematically to the vest.

“There. You look perfect. You should wear colours more often. You look nice in grey, of course, but – it makes you look as if you have no personality.”  
“Revealing one’s personality gives others leverage over you.”  
“You don’t have to reveal _your_ personality. Just _a_ personality. Not demonstrating a personality at all makes you conspicuous. It looks as if you have something to hide. Which is intriguing, to be certain, but it invites scrutiny also. Whereas exhibiting a false personality has the advantage of making people think that they have leverage that they don’t have.”  
Albus scowled. “I’m fairly certain that that is, in fact, what I have been doing already.”  
“Nevertheless. Wear colours, Albus. They look good on you.”

Albus looked in the mirror. The colours Gellert had chosen _did_ look good on him. Of course they did – Gellert had an excellent eye for colour, and he spent a ridiculous amount of time staring at Albus, so how could he not know what would look good on him? But these clothes looked far too different from what he had been wearing in Paris thus far.  
“I love it, Gellert. I promise to wear brighter colours in Italy, ok? Starting with this. But today, I think –“  
Albus changed his outfit again: midnight blue trousers, a matching robe with silver trim, and a dark aquamarine vest. He returned the shirt to its original pale grey.  
“There. Colours.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes, but didn't argue any further, except to subtly shift the shade of his robe and trousers to something more flattering.

Gellert was still in shirtsleeves. Albus wished they had more time. It would be so easy to unbutton Gellert’s shirt, or even simply lower his trousers… Perhaps they did have time? Albus considered dropping his knees right there. His eyes fell on Gellert’s fly. He bit his lip, cast a cushioning charm on the floor…  
Gellert laughed. “Oh, no, Liebhaber. You hold that thought. You’ve gotten spoiled, I think. Let’s see how you do with a little frustration today. You can have me when we get home.”  
“Gellert,” Albus whined.  
Gellert grabbed Albus, ground against him, and bent down. Albus closed his eyes in anticipation of a kiss, but instead, Gellert whispered in his ear, “No, Liebling. Next time you provoke me before we leave, I will show you what you can’t have. Your trousers will have such a tent in them that you will have to keep your robe fastened all afternoon.” He paused. “Perhaps I should do that anyway.”  
Then he let go of Albus and walked to the wardrobe as if nothing had happened.

Albus stifled a groan and changed the subject.  
“About Vinda…”  
“Ouch! Way to make a man lose his erection!”  
“I would have thought she was your type.”  
Beautiful and interested.  
Not that they hadn’t had this conversation yesterday. No, Albus did not feel threatened. Not at all.

“Oh yes? Without scruple or subtlety? I had not realized you think so little of me, Schatz.”  
“True. She may be beautiful, but she is dangerous, and not in a conniving way. More in a casually violent way – an ‘it would be interesting to watch that person slowly bleed out’ way.”  
“While batting her eyelashes, yes.”  
Whatever her other flaws might be, Albus had not noticed Vinda batting her eyelashes, not at Gellert nor at anyone else. She was fierce, never cloyingly coquettish. Her humour was dark, not ingratiating. And she did seem quick and insightful, if a bit too openly volatile. He might have admired her, or at least seen a use for her, if it were not for her being so...

Albus' eyes widened. His husband knew him far too well. He had very nearly manipulated Albus into defending that annoying woman.  
Gellert, meanwhile, was the picture of innocence, looking at himself in the mirror and muttering to himself as he obsessively made nearly imperceptible adjustments to the colours of his clothing. Albus shook his head and smiled. That had been cleverly done.  
Gellert caught his eye in the mirror. “Do you have your wand, Love? I don’t want you forgetting to use your wand.”  
“Don’t worry. I’m not interested in letting people know what I am capable of yet, either.”  
Gellert grunted in reply, and, seemingly satisfied with his reflection, closed the wardrobe and turned to look at Albus.

“Vinda serves more than one purpose, you know. She is not only camouflaging my relationship with you. No, later we may find that we need an eyelash-batting assassin who asks no questions. In any case, if we can manage to find some people for her to kill, or torture, or _perhaps_ simply terrify, then we will have her undying loyalty.”  
Realistically, Gellert would be the only one to have her undying loyalty. She would not be pleased to learn of his relationship with Albus. If they did take her on, they would have to keep an eye on her constantly. 

But Albus could admit that they were bound to get into a great deal of trouble trying to overturn the Statute of Secrecy, no matter how carefully they went about it. He did not want to think that they might not be able to handle everything themselves, that having their very own assassin would be necessary, but if he thought about it dispassionately, it was more likely that they could use her than that they could not. The question was whether the cost would exceed the reward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm interested to hear what y'all think -  
> Not just about this chapter (though comments on what I've written so far are more than welcome!)  
> But also about where things are going -
> 
> Particularly about the pace -  
> Anyone have any opinions on whether to:  
> 1/ do time jumps to make sure I get to 1945 in less than 50 more chapters;  
> 2/ not worry about altering the pacing in order to keep it short - it gets as long as it gets; or  
> 3/ split this into 2 fics - taking this first one to, say, 1918/1920, with a part two covering 1920-1945
> 
> UPDATE: Pace has been decided - it is going to be SLOW - with Part One running through 1902, and perhaps 3 more parts after that


	14. Advance and Retreat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus and Gellert in Turin... and Venice, and Croatia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long - I did a complete rewrite of this chapter, and that took awhile. 
> 
> Love you guys - thanks for reading!

Chapter 12  
November 1899

They left Paris near the end of October. Gellert, contrary to Albus’ expectations, was enamoured with the train, from start to finish. He loved the many tracks in the train station, the press of people all going different places. He loved the anticipation of sitting in the train waiting for the journey to begin. But above all, he loved watching the countryside go by. 

“We miss so much when we apparate, Albus! Look at these trees – the whole time, we have been passing beautiful autumn leaves, but they never look the same – every moment brings a change in perspective, in things to see. I do not know when is the last time I simply savoured the beauty of the earth, the sky, the trees…”  
Albus rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly. _He_ knew the last time Gellert ‘simply savoured the beauty of the earth’ – it was yesterday. They had sat on a bench in Tuileries one last time, and Gellert had spent easily twenty minutes transfixed by the clouds overhead. The day before that, it had been the songbirds in Mrs. Allard’s garden. And the day before that…

“Yes, it’s quite a view,” he answered, but apparently without sufficient enthusiasm to satisfy Gellert.  
“Have you really _looked_? You have been reading all this time, just letting the world pass you by. Do you ever take time to just appreciate beauty?”  
Albus turned from the window to look at Gellert. Albus had learned to look past the honey brown eyes and short dark blond hair to the gorgeous man hidden behind the glamours. There was so much to admire. Right now, Albus was enjoying Gellert’s form, his body like a panther, ready to spring – his wild energy barely contained.  
Albus turned his attention to Gellert’s long fingers – he longed to take each one into his mouth in turn – would have done so already if it weren’t that someone might look in the window to their compartment at any time. He looked back at Gellert’s face, which now held an amused expression.  
“Oh, I’d say I spend the majority of my time appreciating beauty.”

Gellert smirked.  
“Liebling, I am flattered, but I am not the only thing worth looking at in this world.”  
Albus gasped exaggeratedly, and laid his hand on Gellert’s forehead. “Are you feeling well?”  
They both laughed until there were tears gathering in the corners of their eyes.  
“Seriously, Albus – look out the window. Even for just a few minutes. You won’t be sorry.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus had been sceptical about Turin – he had suspected that Gellert had simply looked at a railway map and selected the first town he found that was on a rail line out of France, and was not in Germany. On the contrary, it had not been a random choice at all – Turin had been a centre of Wizarding politics for some time. Many Wizarding families from across Europe kept vacation homes in Piedmont or Liguria, and so Turin had become a place of exchange, where news and ideas from otherwise insular communities could be shared and so spread quickly throughout all of Europe. Gellert had been to Turin several times – his father travelled there on business at least once every year, and he had brought Gellert on occasion.

Unlike Paris, it took them no time at all to make connections in Turin. Gellert had written ahead to two Pureblood families that had done business with his father, and Lord Dupuis had written to two more, and Mrs. Allard connected them with her sister, Lady Rovanasso, whose family lived in Turin. She had sent them an invitation to a dinner party before they had even left Paris.  
Astride also had a friend living in Turin: Karen, a Danish Muggleborn who had graduated from Beauxbatons two years ahead of her. Karen had moved to Turin to learn the art of magical portraiture from one of the few living practitioners. 

Albus had always thrived on being social – he loved nothing more than to be in a room full of people, reading the room, moving from person to person, cultivating connections that would be of use in one way or another. So it surprised him to feel annoyed that they had a full social calendar for their first week in Turin. He had enjoyed feeling alone with Gellert in Paris, the first week they were there – there was a freedom in feeling that no one knew where they were. Now, it felt like _everyone_ knew where they were.  
Albus felt he should be excited that they were accomplishing so much so quickly, but it felt like the beginning of the end of having Gellert all to himself, and it seemed too soon.  
He snapped on the fifth day, as they were getting ready for dinner and drinks at the villa of the Cavallo family.

“I thought the point of our travels was to learn more about Muggles.”  
Gellert looked puzzled.  
“We apparated to Muggle Genoa for lunch earlier today!”

This was true. It had been lovely. Gellert had teased him all through lunch, which provoked Albus to break into a warehouse to fuck. Albus was getting hard all over again, just thinking about the sound of Gellert’s cries echoing in the nearly empty building as he came in Albus’ mouth.  
As soon as he had swallowed, Albus had pulled Gellert down onto the floor of the warehouse, and taken him there, hard and fast. He had left a bruise on Gellert, just below his collarbone – it was covered by his shirt now, but Albus knew it was there. Gellert had screamed Albus’ name when he bit him there. It had been hasty, but the thrill of spontaneous semi-public sex made up for not getting to take his time exploring Gellert’s body more thoroughly. 

Albus unconsciously bit his lower lip. He looked up at Gellert, who was grinning widely.  
“Ah! I see! It is not that you are wishing we were spending more time learning about Muggles. You are wishing we were having more sex in Muggle storehouses!”

That was – probably true as well.  
“You’re right. I – when we are exploring Muggle areas, it is just you and me. I know we need to meet new people – I like meeting new people! I just want one day when you are all mine, and I don’t have to share you with anyone else.”  
Gellert walked over to Albus, and pulled him close. “You want us to make our excuses for dinner tonight, Liebling?”  
“Could we?”  
Gellert kissed Albus’ neck and then pulled away.  
“No, we can’t.”  
Albus swatted Gellert. “You arse! That’s not funny.”  
Gellert smiled wickedly. “It was at least a little funny.”  
Albus sighed.

“What do we have on for tomorrow?” Gellert asked.  
“Lunch in the Wizarding District with Lady Rovanasso.”  
“And the next?”  
“Muggle art and architecture with Karen Rasmus.”  
“Surely the day after that –“  
Albus sighed. “No, there’s a ball the day after that. And the day after that you are having coffee with the Head of Muggle Relations to learn about the Obliviation Department – the most frequent circumstances under which Obliviators have to be called, contrasted with stories of extraordinary Obliviations. Officially. But you were also going to ask him about how Muggle families of Muggleborn witches and wizards are handled in northern Italy and Corsica. That same day, I am spending all day with Karen and a couple of Halfbloods she knows, apparating around Italy.”  
“And the next day?”  
“I’ll still be with Karen. It’s an overnight trip. But as for the day after that – I will have to check my diary. It is possible that six days from now we will have no one expecting to see us. So that will have been only ten days of non-stop playacting.”

“Not non-stop, Albus," Gellert scolded. "Daily is not the same as constantly. Since your birthday, aside from the two days I spent at Beaubaxtons, we have slept in the same bed every night, woken with each other every morning, eaten breakfast just the two of us… And usually we only have one social obligation a day.”  
Albus opened his mouth to respond, but Gellert didn’t stop speaking.  
“But you are right. I miss you, too. We can’t really appear married in public, not even in semi-private settings when it is just us and a few friends, and that is exhausting. If anyone else is near, it feels like I’m not actually with you, even when I’m standing right beside you.  
“Tomorrow, it sounds like we have nowhere to be until lunchtime. Let’s take a look at your diary then, and we’ll see if we can’t carve out one whole day a week just for us, from now on, ok?  
“But right now, you need to finish getting dressed so that we can arrive on time to dinner.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

They had spent nine weeks in Paris, so Albus was surprised when, after they had been in Turin only four weeks, Gellert suggested that it was time to leave. Of course, they had used their time in Turin much more efficiently than they had in Paris, between the research and networking strategies they had begun perfecting there, and the number of contacts they had made before even leaving France. By the end of their five weeks in Turin, they had more than doubled their contacts – including several officials at the Ministry – and they had gained an ally in Lady Cavallo, who might be described as the glue that bound the families who came from all over Europe to meet in Turin – there was no one she didn’t know.  
Lady Cavallo’s opinion was everything: connections might either be facilitated by her, or hindered by her. ‘If we can win the wizards of Turin, we can win Europe,’ Gellert had said. And it seemed that the key to winning either was winning Lady Cavallo – who had proved to be quite partial to Albus. So much so that it annoyed Gellert. They had announced their departure eight days in advance, and Lady Cavallo had made a point of saying ‘a proper goodbye’ to Albus – repeatedly.

“You realize that this is the fourth time she has invited you to tea in the past three weeks – without inviting me.”  
Albus was busy writing a reply.  
“Albus!”  
“Give me a minute. It is important to get this right.”  
Albus finished writing his note to Lady Cavallo, tied the parchment to her lovely eagle owl, and sent it on its way.

He turned to Gellert. “It seems odd for her to be inviting me today for tea tomorrow afternoon – usually she gives more notice. She knows we leave the day after tomorrow – if it was so important to her, I would have thought that she would have made sure to secure the time earlier.”  
“Perhaps her husband is leaving town unexpectedly,” Gellert said bitterly.  
Albus was confused. “Why would that –“  
“Honestly, Albus. You cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed how enamoured she is with you?”  
Albus’ brow furrowed. Could that be true? She just seemed – attentive. 

“By the stars, you haven’t noticed, have you! Liebling. She is touching you constantly.”  
“I thought maybe that was just her being Italian.”  
“Have any other Italians touched you that much?”  
“I – guess – not?”  
“No, they have not. At least, I have not noticed anyone else touching you nearly so much, and you know that I would have noticed. ‘Just her being Italian.’ Honestly. This time of year, almost everyone else here is Italian, too.”  
Albus was troubled. He stood, walked to the washstand, and began unfolding and refolding the towels.

“But – why me?”  
“You’re not – ?”  
Albus turned around to face Gellert when he broke off. When his eyes met Gellert’s, he started again.  
“Have you never looked in a mirror? Why anyone _but_ you? You are somehow both fierce and agreeable. You are knowledgeable and insightful and a powerful wizard. The magic just rolls off of you – anyone who has any sense of these things can _feel_ you enter a room – they don’t even have to be looking. You are already published in professional journals and you have powerful friends, and yet you are just barely of age. Add to that that you are gorgeous, and seemingly unattached? I don’t know why anyone is ever interested in anybody else!”

Albus blushed. “You are biased.”  
Gellert, who had been moving steadily closer to Albus all this time, grabbed Albus and kissed him. “Being married to you in no way makes me blind to who you are. Your mind is sexy, your magic is sexy – but your body is sexy too, and it has clearly been too long since I’ve told you so.”  
“You stare at me constantly – I know you think I’m nice to look at Gellert. It’s ok.”  
“I don’t stare at you – I admire you, like a living piece of art. You aren’t ‘nice to look at’ – you astonish me, you fascinate me. I don’t think you really know how much. It is not nearly enough to simply follow you quietly with my eyes. I should be telling you every day how your body affects me.”

Gellert kissed him again.  
“These lips look so pink all the time, as if I’ve been kissing you, even when I haven’t. When you are trying to figure something out, they part slightly, the way they do when you are dazed and wanting me. Your lips don’t even have to touch me to make me insane. I can get distracted by them from across the room. When we are in public, I have to work hard at pretending indifference when all I want to do is drag you behind a tapestry or something. And that’s just your lips.”  
“Gellert!” Albus blushed and looked away. He wasn’t used to hearing Gellert talk like this. He loved to talk about Gellert, but it was a bit embarrassing hearing about the effect Albus had on him.

“Oh no, Liebhaber. I’m not nearly through with you.” Gellert put a hand on Albus’ cheek and gently coaxed him to turn his face back towards him. “I haven’t told you yet about how much I love your beautiful blue eyes – how it goes straight to my cock when you look up at me with those big innocent eyes when I’m riding you.”  
Albus groaned.  
Gellert grabbed Albus’ arse and pulled him tight against him. “I haven’t told you about how much I hate that moment when we are getting ready to leave for a social engagement, and you put on your robes – because it means that I won’t be able to see your arse for hours – your beautiful, squeezable round arse.”

Gellert kissed Albus’ mouth, more fiercely and deeply this time, and when he broke away, Albus was breathing hard. He locked eyes with Gellert, who smiled, and began dropping little kisses on him, narrating his journey across Albus’ face.  
“Your jawline, perfect… this hollow just beneath your cheekbone, perfect… your eyebrows, perfect… your forehead, perfect…”  
Then he began unbuttoning Albus’ shirt, until there was enough slack to push it off one shoulder.  
“Here – where your neck meets your body? And this U where your collarbones come together? And this little depression between your muscles just here near your shoulder? There is really too much to list, just right here – just this small piece of territory that I’ve exposed – I could look at you all day long, and never get tired of it.”

Gellert grasped Albus’ hand and kissed his palm.  
“Come with me to bed – I need to show you more.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

From Turin, they went to Venice. Albus had expected that a city with such cultural significance and with a history of strategic importance would have had a strong Wizarding community as well, but Gellert had told him that there was no Wizarding district in Venice at all – if there were any Witches or Wizards living there, they would be living quietly alongside unsuspecting Muggles, and therefore hard to find.

Karen, however, had insisted that they had to see Venice on their way east. Albus was having wine with her on the balcony of her flat, the day he and Gellert had decided to move on.  
“There is no place like Venice in all the world, Albus – it is so beautiful.”  
Then she eyed him carefully. “And it is very romantic. It would be a good place to vacation after your busy time in Turin.”

Albus panicked internally, but managed to keep his expression neutral.  
“Just looking around a place and enjoying the sights would be nice. Though you have already done a good job making sure that Gellert and I learn more about Muggle culture. Thank you for spending so much time with us.”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that you didn’t respond to the word ‘romantic.’ I won’t tell Astride, you know. Not that I think she would care, but I won’t tell her anyway.”  
“You won’t tell her what, exactly?”  
Karen sighed and rolled her eyes. “About you and Gellert, obviously. It’s ok. You two are perfect for one another. You are lucky to have one another.”  
Albus allowed a brief flash of panic to show before regaining his composure.  
Karen must have noticed. “Please don’t worry – I didn’t want you to worry – I just wanted you to feel – I don’t know – seen? Less alone? I don’t think anyone else in Turin knows. You’ve done a great job hiding it.” Then she muttered angrily, “Not that you should have to…”

Albus gave up his front as a lost cause. “How can you be sure no one else knows? You figured it out, clearly.”  
“I’m not just here to study with Master Dellanuvola – there is a perfectly competent portrait painter in France. I came here to get away from Astride. My best friend, and I can’t visit with her or her family anymore. Her older sister is getting married, and I couldn’t – I couldn’t be in the same room with her.” She met Albus’ eyes. “You understand?”  
Albus thought he did, but he took a brief peek just to be sure, and – there were images of Karen and another woman that were clearly not memories, but fantasies – juxtaposed with memories of the same woman happily talking to a man at a party, dancing with the same man at a ball, walking with him in a garden…

“Yes, I think I do understand. I’m so sorry.”  
“Thank you – but, I am glad to be here now. I have good friends, and a good teacher, and I live in a beautiful city. Having a lover is not necessary for a happy life.”  
Albus did not at all agree, but he supposed that not everyone was lucky enough to meet someone as perfect for them as Gellert was for him. 

“I’m so glad that I met you and Gellert,” Karen continued. “I’ve had such fun teaching you all about Muggle art and culture. I’m not sure that I agree that the Muggle and the Wizarding world can be reunited, but I am going to continue thinking about it. Gellert has been very persuasive, and I can admit that it is uncomfortable have to hide almost everything about my life from my family and my childhood friends. I hope that you will come back to visit, or perhaps I will catch up with you one day on your travels.”

Albus was touched. Karen might almost be a friend? It would have been interesting to see what would have happened if they were to stay. “I would like that. And in the meantime, I will write, I promise.”  
Karen laughed, “Oh dear. Don’t do that. I am a terrible correspondent. I won’t write back, and you will think that it is because I don’t like you.”  
Albus smiled. “I think I will take my chances on that.”  
He hugged Karen. “Thank you for suggesting Venice. You are right – It feels very lonely for Gellert and I, having to hide who we are to one another all the time. We could use some time together, just the two of us.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Churches and glass blowers and opera houses notwithstanding, Albus knew that Gellert would not be able to stay in such a ‘non-strategic’ location as Venice for long, so he rented a room for only ten days. Albus, for his part, loved being in a (probably) Wizard-free area – where there was nothing to do but enjoy their time with one another and passively soak up Muggle culture.

As they had done when traveling from Paris to Turin, Gellert and Albus had taken the train to Venice. Gellert was more and more appreciative of the slow travel of Muggles, as opposed to apparition. Albus pointed out that they had only been going short distances so far – ‘you might not be so happy with this pace if we were going more than 500 miles.’ But Albus was coming to appreciate Muggle travel over very short distances – on trips of half an hour or less. For instance, he had to agree that the gondolas in Venice required them to savour views that they might easily have missed otherwise.

‘But,’ Gellert observed, after having apparated them directly into their room on the Rio de San Cassan, ‘apparition is certainly preferable in times of need.’  
He went on to show Albus precisely what he was needing, leading Albus to lean against the desk so that Gellert could kneel on the floor in front of him, the perfect height to taste Albus’ arse, balls, cock… Albus groaned as Gellert sucked him greedily.  
From the very beginning, Albus had loved Gellert’s impatience when it came to getting his hands on his body – but this time, as Albus tangled his hands in Gellert’s hair, and watched his cock disappear once again into Gellert’s mouth, he realized that this excitement and affection was now unmixed with fear. He would never again wonder if Gellert meant with his heart what he was making Albus feel with his mouth. The answer was yes.  
His last clear thought was that Gellert had clearly not been at all exaggerating about ‘need’ – they needed each other – and now they would have each other always. 

By the time Gellert had him bent over the desk, slowly working his way into him, Albus managed one more thought: ‘I am glad we came to Venice.’  
In the minutes after Gellert was spent, and had pulled out of Albus, Albus felt empty – he pulled Gellert to the bed so that they could hold one another. He needed for Gellert to comfort him – his body needed to be reassured that Gellert was still there, even if he was no longer inside of him. This feeling was why Albus bottomed so seldom. Gellert didn’t seem to have the same problem when Albus had been inside of him – and somehow, neither did Albus.  
But laying on Gellert's chest, listening to his heart beating, Albus could enjoy that pleasant ache, accompanied by the tingly sensation that he always had after Gellert had been inside of him. This was one of the many reasons he bottomed at all. He smiled, anticipating this bodily reminder of their lovemaking continuing long after they had gotten dressed again and gone back out into the city. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

In spite of what Gellert had said in the beginning about going where Albus most wanted to go, Albus did not really expect to be on vacation in any place more than they had been in Paris. From now on, he expected that they were on a mission more than they were on a leisurely tour – there would be little sense in staying long in a place where there was little to learn. Though Albus had to admit that he wondered if there had ever been a place where there was little to learn. In any case, some places were sure to be more strategic than others, and some places were sure to give them more of the kind of information they were seeking.

Their time in Venice corrected Albus’ notion that their life together was going to consist of Gellert’s mission punctuated by time spent together. Gellert did prioritize their marriage, and would continue to do so. They would always make time for one another. Albus remembered Gellert’s disappointment about their inability to sort out his proposed Proximity vow, and he understood what that had really meant – that he never should have doubted that they would always make time for one another – that, while work was important to Gellert, Albus was even more important. Venice was where he first realized that he believed this was true – it had taken him awhile to believe it, even though Gellert had been telling him this from the very beginning. 

But they couldn’t stay in Venice forever. From Venice, they took a boat to Pula. They had not been able to find any Wizards there, but Gellert had been fascinated by the harbour. He could not stop marvelling out loud, ‘And they do this without magic!’ It made Albus nervous how incautious Gellert was with his commentary – but he did manage to bite back the reply, ‘Yes, and they can hear without magic, too.’

Gellert was alarmed by what the Muggles were capable of accomplishing, carrying so much material across the sea.  
(‘I don’t understand – didn’t you take a boat to Durmstrang every year?’ Albus had asked, and Gellert had replied, ‘It was a _magic_ boat, Liebling.’)  
He was fixated on how much material passed through the harbour. He went back twice a day, all four days that they were there, watching ships pull in to shore. One morning Albus overheard Gellert whisper, ‘they just keep coming,’ and he was reminded of Gellert having said something similar about the phantom soldiers on the beach in Normandy. Gellert looked horrified, and Albus’ heart broke for him. That night, Gellert cried out in his sleep, and when he woke, he clung to Albus until morning. He refused to speak about his dream.

Albus wished that Gellert had never decided that Wizards needed to reveal themselves to Muggles, because Gellert was stubborn enough that nothing would dissuade him now, no matter how frightened he became by the odds against them – and Albus could tell that Gellert was truly frightened of the Muggles now – frightened, too, that the task was too big, the costs too high. But he expected that Gellert would never say so, even to Albus.  
So, that time Albus was the one who had decided it was time to leave. Gellert needed to be pulled away from any reminders of Muggle proliferation for a while. He procured train tickets to Zagreb. He planned to keep Gellert hidden away in an apartment in the Wizarding quarter for a couple of days, just making love and sleeping and eating poppy seed rolls, with occasional outings for ‘simply savouring the beauty of the earth.’ 

Albus remembered the words of their Renewal vow: “When you are lost, I will find you; when you are broken, I will be there to put you back together; when you are exhausted, I will be your rest and renewal.” He wished he could protect Gellert, that he could keep this quest of his from breaking him – but he was learning that that was unrealistic. But he could hold him and help him mend whenever it all became too much for him – he could ensure that, whatever trials came, Gellert would never be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gellert and Albus are becoming sure of one another - but if all is well between them, there are still plenty of stressors coming at them from the outside


	15. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted us to all get a bit of a break in the travelogue for a bit of fluff and smut ☺  
> Albus keeps Gellert busy their first week in Zagreb.

Chapter 13  
December 1899

Just before leaving Pula, Gellert expressed an interest in celebrating ‘a proper Yule’ – which would require staying with a Wizarding family who would welcome them on short notice. Very short notice.

Albus had suggested that they return to England to stay with Bathilda for Yule (they could just make it in two weeks), but Gellert was concerned about what Aberforth might do to Albus if he saw him so soon after he had left, ‘and in any case, that would be going backwards, Liebling – we would have to retrace our steps twice.’

Gellert thought that they should stay with friends of his in their manor house in the mountains above Grein. Albus finally agreed, and owled Aberforth what he had probably already guessed – that Albus would not be back for the winter holidays, and that he hoped that Aberforth would find someone to go home with.  
Isolde, as ever, did not bring back a reply.  
Albus had heard nothing from Aberforth since he had left. He would be more worried, but Isolde would have brought back his own letters as undeliverable if Aberforth had been badly injured or worse, so he could only conclude that Aberforth was not speaking to him. Honestly, what had he expected?

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

While heading to Austria for Yule meant that the time in Zagreb would necessarily be short, it was plenty long enough to serve Albus’ purpose. By the end of the second day, Gellert seemed to have forgotten all about Muggles. They had two weeks, and Albus was determined to put every hour to good use. He kept Gellert occupied in bed (and on the floor, and in the tub, and against the wall, and on the desk, and one time late at night in the park.) 

It did not occur to Albus that he needed this relentless fucking just as much as Gellert did – Albus needed to feel that he was sheltering Gellert, and to reinforce his recent epiphany that Gellert needed him even more than he needed to remake the Wizarding world – that there was a sense in which he could be content with just their bodies moving against one another, remaking the spaces between themselves over and over again. 

Albus loved everything about Gellert – his reverence when it came to the natural world, and Albus, and magic, and his irreverence when it came to almost everything else. Even as much as it worried him, he loved Gellert’s single-minded devotion to “The Muggle Problem.” He loved the way Gellert won people over almost instantly. He loved his curious mind and his powerful magic.  
But it was Gellert’s body – well, his body and his mischief – that Albus had noticed first, and he still found him stunning across the room. And close up? Gellert’s body was overwhelmingly perfect – the way he tasted, the way he smelled. Albus loved to take his time looking at Gellert, running his fingers over whatever part of him was claiming his devotion at the moment. He intended to spend every minute he could as close to Gellert as he could get.

And so it was, that on their third day in Zagreb, Albus was once again losing himself in admiring Gellert’s back – his shoulder blades, his hard muscles, the valley of his spine… Albus’ fingers found the mark of their blood pact, and his breath caught. Husband.  
Albus crawled back up until he was high enough to move Gellert’s hair to one side and kiss the back of his neck.  
“I love you.”

“Mmm. I love you too.”  
“I need –“  
“You take anything you need from me, Liebhaber. I’m all yours.”  
Gods. Yes he was. What a miracle.

Albus took his time preparing Gellert with his fingers, while he explored Gellert’s thighs with his tongue and his lips and his teeth. When Gellert was ready, Albus lined himself up and gently pushed – he loved the feel of breaching that tight smooth ring of muscle – he loved the way Gellert whined when he first entered him, every time. 

When Albus was fully inside of Gellert, he paused.  
“How do you want me, Liebling?”  
“Take me like you own me. I need – gods, I want – Albus, please move!”  
‘Take me like you own me.’ Fuck, yes.  
Albus bit Gellert hard enough to leave a mark, high up on his shoulder, and began driving into him. He couldn’t hold back after what Gellert had asked of him.  
He reached around and grabbed Gellert’s cock, and whispered in his ear, “Come with me.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The ‘sex, eat, sleep’ plan was missing one important component however – intellectual stimulation. Gellert wasn’t happy unless he had a project, and since they had been too preoccupied before now, Gellert had decided that it was time to start working on achieving his Animagus form. 

“I suppose we are going to need to find an apothecary,” he said, a bit grumpily. He was lying in bed half-dressed, and did not look to be at all inclined to put on enough clothing to leave the room.  
“That whole Mandrake leaf business is a needless complication,” Albus replied. “I did it simply by meditating.”

“Meditating.”  
“Yes. You can close your eyes or find a focal point...”  
Then it occurred to Albus - “You seem to spend a lot of time just – looking at things.”  
Gellert looked wary. “What do you mean, exactly?”  
“Honestly, Gellert. You _know_ what I mean! Several times a week, I notice you starting at a fountain, or at the clouds, or at a reflection on the water, or the leaves of a tree moving in the breeze. Most people are unable to attend to one thing that closely for more than two or three minutes. You can do it for thirty.”  
“And?” Gellert asked defensively.  
“And – this could be helpful to the whole process.”  
“Helpful.”

“Yes! But – I would need to – I would need to know what is usually happening in your mind when you do that. I mean, are you finding a place of emptiness, or using it to think, or to – I don’t know...”  
Gellert groaned, and Albus steeled himself. He should have guessed when Gellert started becoming defensive – a difficult conversation was due to start any... second...  
Gellert rolled towards Albus and clung to him like a child might cling to a blanket.  
“Well, actually –“  
As. Expected.

“I haven’t been – forthcoming about my visions.”  
“Love, it’s ok if –“  
“No, it is better that you know. I – have them every day. Several times a day.”  
They had known each other – six months? A little more? So – 180 days of visions, and Albus had heard about... two of them. Wait, no - one. The vision of Albus in Gellert’s bed shouldn’t count, since that was before they met. How many visions had Gellert had in that time? At least 360, right? Merlin! 

“That’s – Gellert, I had no idea!”  
“I know,” Gellert said miserably. “I didn’t want to worry you.”  
“Worry me, Love, please – that is what I’m here for! Or – one of the things I’m here for, anyway. If something is troubling you – do you remember the first day we were together?”  
“When I took off my shirt in the window?”  
Even though he couldn’t see it, Albus could hear the smirk in Gellert’s voice. 

“No, Arse – I didn’t even know your name then! I mean, when your Aunt introduced us, and we kissed in her sitting room, and we went out on a walk with her fresh baked scones.”  
“And I made you cry – I remember.”  
“You didn’t make me cry, Gellert. I cried because my mother had died. I would have cried at some point that day, even if you’d never said anything. And all you said, anyway, was that you were sorry.”

“I think I probably said more than that. I remember being embarrassingly inarticulate.”  
“Well, I don’t remember it that way at all. But we’re off track here – I was trying to say, it was the very first day, and you were telling me that you wanted me to cry on you, if I needed to, whyever I needed to. That it was ok if I ruined your vest.”  
“I never would have said that you could ruin my vest. You are not remembering that part correctly.”  
True. Gellert _was_ obsessive about his clothes. 

“Fine, you might be right. The important thing is that you have always – _always_ – been there for me. And I want you to let me be there for you too."  
Gellert was quiet for a moment, so Albus took the opportunity to add, “I love you.”

Gellert took his head off of Albus’ chest, and laid on his side. “Look at me, Love?”  
Albus laid on his side, looking at Gellert, and Gellert kissed him. “You are so kind, and so generous.”  
“Not really,” Albus muttered.  
“To me, you are. I love you. I love your heart and all the room you have made in it for me. But honestly – it is more that the visions make me tired. It is rare to have visions like the one on the beach, or the one with the newspaper...”  
Right. The newspaper. That made two.

“Usually they’re – ordinary? Usually I am looking at some person I don’t know, and seeing them differently than they are now – something innocuous – carrying a baby that hasn't been born yet, maybe, or holding hands with someone they haven’t met yet, or reading a letter with sad news about a future loss. A child dropping a toy, a man feeding pigeons. Those are the visions I have every day.  
“Every day I get one of these – mundane visions. That is fine. The difficult days are those when there are dozens, one right after the other. And this is more likely to happen when I am in a new place.”

Albus felt terrible.  
“Oh Gellert! And here we are travelling everywhere, and –“  
Gellert gently pressed two fingertips to Albus’ lips.  
“No – Albus – you were right when you said that it was really my idea to do this. I want to travel – I want to see new things. It is worth the... difficulties.  
“Anyway, since my visions are visually stimulated, I have found that what works best is to fix my gaze on whatever in my environment is not provoking a vision at the moment. If I can look on something that is – that is constantly, irregularly, subtly moving – that usually works best. It is like taking a potion when you have a headache.  
“So – I am not meditating when I do it. Not per se. In any case – I’d like not to layer a meaning on it – that would likely be counterproductive.”

“Ok – closed eyes it is,” said Albus.  
But he didn’t want to give Gellert the impression that he was just ignoring everything he had just said, so he added, “Every day is – a lot.”  
Gellert sighed. “Yes, it is.”  
“Does – sex help?”

Gellert smiled. “You want to ask about sex? You don’t want to ask about whether I have had visions about you? Or whether I have had any more of the terrible world changing visions? Or what other visions I have had of terrible things before I met you?”  
“Later. I am a selfish man, laying in bed with my husband, whose body drives me insane – I am asking about sex.”  
Gellert laughed. “I do not have visions when we are having sex, no. But I assure you that I have never used your body for that purpose. Sex is – saying I love you with my body – it is giving you enjoyment, and finding enjoyment in you, and simply giving in to an overwhelming desire to have you – to be near you – to be nearer to you than I can be any other way. That it keeps my mind too occupied for anything else is – a side benefit, let’s say.”

“No – I was offering –“  
Gellert kissed Albus.  
“Sweet of you, Liebling, but I don’t want you having sex with me in order to protect me. I want you having sex with me because you can’t resist me.”  
Albus pushed Gellert over onto his back, and climbed on top of him. “That goes without saying.”  
“No it doesn’t. Say it.”

Wasn’t that typical, Albus thought fondly. He wandlessly vanished Gellert’s shirt, and Gellert bit his lip in anticipation.  
“You – I feel lucky, amazed to have simply met you – you are extraordinary in every way. From the moment I saw you, I couldn’t think about anything but how much I needed you...”  
Albus began nibbling his way down Gellert’s body, from his neck to his shoulders to his chest...  
“You want me to say I can’t resist you? I have not been able to resist you from the very beginning, and I never will.”  
Albus trailed his mouth over to the tender spot on Gellert’s side, about an inch below his last rib, biting him, then licking him, then sucking him there.  
Gellert gasped, “And – right – now?”  
Albus lifted his head, and looked Gellert in the eyes.  
“Right now, I am going to make you forget everything but you and me, for no other reason than that I cannot stop thinking about the way your cock feels in my mouth.”  
And with that, Albus vanished the rest of Gellert’s clothing, so that he could demonstrate exactly what he meant.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Turn your mind inward, and find the source of your magic.”  
It was the next morning, and Albus was finally beginning to lead Gellert through the method he had used to achieve his first Animagus form.  
Or trying to.

“Don’t be ridiculous – my magic is everywhere – all through my body, and surrounding it...”  
Ridiculous?! Albus was the one with two Animagus forms. It was _just possible_ that what he was saying was not actually 'ridiculous.'  
“Fine, listen. Don’t think of it as the place where your magic resides. Think of it as – as the train station. There are lots of trains and lots of tracks that the trains travel along, to go different places. But to get on or off a train, you have to go to the station, right?”

“I am looking for a train station. In my body.”  
“No! I’m – not explaining this very well. Imagine instead, an opening, a gate – no – a door. This represents the access point – the entryway through which all of the magic of your body moves. It gathers your magic from – wherever it is. The magic then moves through this one door, and from there your intention collects that magical energy and directs it.  
“For most uses, it doesn’t matter – no, forget that – for most uses, any of your magic _can be_ used – with varying results.  
“Most Wizards and Witches are inefficient – they draw on whatever magical energy is handy. You, I think, are different – I believe that you are instinctively pulling the magic that is most suited to any task, and that is one of the things that makes you especially powerful. This ability to use the precise magical energy for any given magical task – without even thinking about it – this is why, for instance, you can throw up such strong glamours without straining your ability to do other magic – it is – that is, my theory is that you are drawing on the part of you that wants to perform strong illusions.”

“Not all of us have every kind of magical energy,” Albus continued, “and we all have different levels of whichever energies we do have. Which is why different witches and wizards are better at different things.”

Albus suddenly became aware that he had been lecturing for quite some time. He was so excited to finally be sharing this idea that he had not stopped for Gellert to respond. He felt badly for a moment, before realizing that Gellert had been listening attentively all this time. Avidly, even.

“Not you – you’re good at everything.”  
“That’s not true, Gellert! For example, I wasn’t any good at glamours before our blood pact. Or – I could do them, but they drained my magic severely. I didn’t – have the right thread to pull. I didn’t have the magical energy for illusions.  
“That’s why I thought that it was going to tire you too much to wear a glamour that long – I didn’t have that magical energy – that thread to pull – so I didn’t know that it existed.”

“Thread?”  
“Right, I hadn’t gotten to that part.”  
It wasn’t so much that Albus had forgotten as that he had stopped midway, because he was embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. And he had wanted to give Gellert a chance to think about what he had said so far.  
“You had said that your magic is everywhere in your body – and I agree – it is! But it isn’t homogeneous. There’s a sense in which you don’t have just one magic – or at least, your magic has many component parts, all tangled together and reaching in different directions. I think of each type of magical energy as a thread, or as several threads.”

Gellert looked astonished.  
“Why have I never heard of any of this?”  
“Oh – I discovered it when meditating.”

“But, Albus! This is your own idea? Something you - this - this is amazing! Do you mind... how old were you?”  
“Oh it wasn’t that long ago. I was – 14? I think?”  
“14! Extraordinary! But – you haven’t published anything about this?”  
“Well, no. For one, I had no one to try it with until now, so the only evidence I had was my own experience. I would need multiple people to have a similar experience for me to have anything to publish. Think about what we were just talking about, for example – there was an entire magical energy I didn’t know about, just because I didn’t have it myself! I had to spend time with you just to consider it. And it is still hypothetical until you meditate and find your pathways, and see if that illusions thread even exists. It makes sense that it does, but –  
“Even then, I’m not sure that I want people to know. What if tests are developed to determine the levels of each person’s magical energies? And what if these are used to divide the magical community?”

“And that would be – a bad thing?”  
“Yes! New information is always being discovered – new methods being developed. What if what I’ve discovered is incomplete? What if people’s potentials change over time? What if there are more factors that influence a person’s power or potential power? No – there are too many possible problems with sharing this information with everyone.”  
But it wasn't that Albus hadn't thought about it. He particularly wondered about Squibs - if they had magical energy inside of them, but their door was closed. And if so, could it be opened?

Albus stopped pacing and turned to look Gellert in the eyes. He took Gellert’s hands in his.  
“But you – I wanted you to know. And doing the meditation to prepare for the Animagus transformation is the perfect way to get a feel for your magic in this way. And the more you know about yourself and your magic –”  
“Gods, Albus!”  
Gellert pulled Albus onto the bed and kissed him. “Your brain is – “ He kissed him again. “When you talk about magical theory! You are –“ He started to pull at Albus’ clothes. “You are brilliant! So sexy!”

Albus pulled away a bit and smiled mischievously. “I thought I was supposed to be helping you meditate.”  
Gellert pushed Albus onto his back and climbed on top of him.  
“Ok, Schatz. Tell me. How do I meditate?”

Albus couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think about anything but Gellert – his eyes, unlike anyone else’s eyes – eyes only he was allowed to gaze into in this way. His beautiful wavy hair falling around his face. The feel of Gellert's hard cock pressing against his own, maddeningly separated by their trousers.  
What were they doing again? Right...  
“Uhmmm... C-close your eyes?”  
Gellert smiled and shook his head. Albus’ attention was caught by the way his hair moved. “No, I’m skipping that part. I want to keep looking at you. Next?”

“You – pour your consciousness through –“  
Gellert reached down and laid a hand on Albus’ cheek and looked at him like he was all the world. Albus lost his train of thought for a moment.  
“...through the door that leads to the source of your magical energies.”  
Gellert groaned.  
“Are you trying to kill me? That was – tremendously suggestive.”  
“I – wasn’t trying to –“  
“No, you weren’t. Which makes it So. Much. Hotter.”

Gellert wandlessly unbuttoned Albus’ shirt.  
“Trousers, Liebhaber – it’s easier for you.”  
“It will be just as easy for you once you have me-eh!!-ditated.”  
Albus could tell Gellert was now grinning by the feel of his mouth against Albus’ neck – he clearly loved to make Albus cry out mid-sentence – he always seemed so delighted with himself when he managed it. Which was – every time he made an attempt at it, as far as Albus could tell.

“Maybe so,” Gellert purred in Albus’ ear. “But how am I going to do my meditating if I don’t pour my consciousness through your door, mein Schatz?”  
Albus gasped, overcome – but not so overcome as to forget to remove their trousers.  
“You... are never... going to... Animagus... so... distracted!”  
He yelped the last word, as Gellert had taken one of Albus’ nipples into his mouth.

Gellert looked positively predatory.  
“Oh, Albus. I’ll show you an animal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So – I almost ended this with the sex being interrupted by Gellert accidentally plowing his collarbone into Albus’ nose, and breaking it (the nose, not the collarbone) and Albus teasing him about it, while still really in pain, and Gellert apologizing profusely, and them stopping just long enough for to numb and episkey Albus’ nose, and Albus being all, ‘Stop apologizing and get back in there – neither one of us is finished yet!’  
> Anyway. Imagine that happening, or not – as you wish.


	16. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Croatia (continued) and Austria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 12-14 (by my reckoning, that is. In the AO3 chapter index, chapters 14-16) were at one time just one chapter! I have slowed things down considerably, LOL! And this chapter has been completely overhauled twice at least. But – I am much happier with the result. I hope that you are too ☺
> 
> Many thanks are due again to FlameKat, for her insights, her support, and her constant reminder: “ _You_ are the author.”

Chapter 14  
December 1899, continued

No matter how well he kept Gellert distracted, Albus continued to be haunted by his memory of the sombre look on Gellert’s face as he watched piles of crates growing higher and higher in the warehouses at the wharves of Pula. Every night, he lay awake long after Gellert was asleep, thinking about how to approach the problem of the sheer quantity of Muggles. Wizarding hegemony was not inconceivable – throughout history, it was seemingly inevitable that the few would rule the many, but he could not see how it was possible to achieve given the current state of affairs. Wizards were not just terrifically outnumbered, but unknown. So far, he had found no analogy to this situation in the Muggle world.  
But he was determined to solve this problem. With enough thought and energy, surely he could give this gift to Gellert – a way out of his unexpressed fear that the Muggles were too many to be tamed.

It seemed that there might be answers right outside of their door. On a food run, he had accidentally discovered that Zagreb’s Wizarding quarter, while small, was a centre for ritual magic, and Albus itched to explore the area with Gellert – to learn what secrets Zagreb had to reveal. 

But currently, Gellert was busy – meditating on his magic twice daily, and putting together a plan for making the ‘portkey tattoos.’  
“You still want to do that? Even though we didn’t make the proximity vow?”  
“We may not be _bound_ to proximity, my Love, but we are still committed to it. So – yes. It would be useful. Especially if one of us were in trouble and needed to get to the other quickly.”

Albus had to admit that it would be practical to always have a way to be quickly reunited with one another if they found themselves far away. And in any case, if he was aiming to distract Gellert for a little while from the global proliferation of Muggles, then it would be counterproductive to take him along on a fact-gathering mission about how to mitigate the problem.

So, after a week of making love seemingly nonstop, they began to leave their room for several hours each day. Together, they would go to the bookstores or the library. Then Gellert would go back to the room to study, and Albus would – 

“What do you do when I’m reading and meditating?” Gellert asked on the third day. They were eating in a small restaurant in Muggle Zagreb.  
“I’m just – staying out of your way.” Albus smilled.  
Which was true. It was also true that, the day before, ‘staying out of Gellert’s way’ had entailed going to the pub to try to Imperius random Wizards without them noticing. 

On their first true outing in Zagreb, Albus had found a book called _The Magical Manipulation of the Will_ , and already he had learned three things that struck him as important: first, it was not possible to Imperius a Muggle; second, with practice, one casting of an Imperius could affect multiple people at a time; and finally, there was a ritual that had a similar effect to the Imperius (if slightly muted, it seemed) that allowed one to bend masses of people to one’s will. Villages for certain. Cities were implied.  
‘What is the limit?’ Albus wondered. The book did not go into detail, so Albus was trying to experiment his way towards understanding, instead.

And if he was going to experiment with the more difficult or even undiscovered possibilities around magical manipulation (surely it _was_ possible to Imperius Muggles – the way simply had not yet been discovered), then he was going to have to begin by mastering a basic Imperius.  
Which meant casting an Imperius on a wizard, which meant breaking essentially the only rule in Wizarding Croatia.  
Albus had already learned that there was no such thing as ‘dark magic’ in Croatia. There was only magic. Nothing was impermissible. Nothing except to violate the will of another Witch or Wizard. (Albus supposed that was why the book did not have any practical information in it whatsoever.) 

Gellert broke Albus out of his thoughts. “You are never in my way, Liebhaber. I prefer to have you near me.”  
“Mmmhmm – very near. If I go back with you, we’re just going to have sex all afternoon.”  
“Not _all_ afternoon!” Gellert smiled at Albus mischievously, gesturing with his fork. “We would nap as well.”  
“Yes? And then when would you study?”  
Gellert rolled his eyes. “You know very well I’m just joking, Albus. I swear I will study – I need to study. Just - come back with me this afternoon. I promise not to touch you before dinner. Or – not much. Read with me, Liebling, like we used to do in Paris? Me at the desk, and you in bed? I miss you.”

Albus did have reading to do. In fact, he had already planned to return to the room with Gellert, but it was fun to play the game of letting him beg and then giving in gradually. Even when Gellert didn’t know they were playing.  
Or perhaps it would be more accurate, this time, to say that the game was cover for the disturbing events of the day before – instead of troubling Gellert (and further troubling himself), he could give them the gift of something more – familiar. Comforting, even

The day before had – not gone to plan. Which was putting it mildly. To be precise: Albus had been abducted. Briefly, but nonetheless, he had been taken by surprise – decisively ambushed.  
Albus had just released a Wizard from his first (only) successful attempt at an Imperius. It had taken several tries, which annoyed him. (He was powerful, his wandless magic made him discrete – almost invisible in his casting, and he had studied the theory for hours the night before. He was expecting almost instant success.) After thirty minutes, he finally made a Wizard say goodbye to his friends, get up, and leave the pub. 

After releasing the Wizard, he noticed motion from the corner of his eye. Before he could defend himself, he had been grabbed and apparated away. Thankfully not far away – just out of the pub and into the alley behind the stationer’s shop. Albus had had the absurd thought, ‘Oh good – now I can pick up that parchment that Gellert’s been needing.’  
Albus turned to his assailant? Kidnapper? He was perhaps 40, not very tall, with long dark hair, a slightly broad nose, and eyes that seemed both friendly and hungry. Albus didn’t trust him. Of course, Albus didn’t trust anybody – and this wizard had just abducted Albus, so it would not take a great deal of intuition for even a naive and optimistic wizard not to trust him.

‘Are you trying to be thrown into prison?’ the stranger had asked.  
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.’  
‘I’m sure you do. Occlumency is as important a discipline as Legilimency, young one.’  
Then before Albus could ask any questions, the unknown wizard had apparated away.

Occlumency. How stupid could he have been? How short-sighted? He _knew_ he was not the only Legilimens. True natural Legilimens were rare, but plenty of people had the potential to develop the ability, and enough did so that the existence of Legilimency was common knowledge.  
So he had gone to the stationer’s shop for Gellert, bought a book on practical Occlumency at the bookshop next door, transfigured the cover to make the book look like a Muggle novel, and retreated into Muggle Zagreb, where he felt less vulnerable. How many people had seen inside of his head, and what had they seen?  
When Albus returned for dinner, he had said nothing of the day’s events to Gellert besides saying, ‘I think that I am going to try to learn Occlumency.’

Albus turned his attention back to Gellert. “I suppose I could stay in this afternoon. I do have a new book I want to read, and some meditations I want to try.”  
Gellert raised his eyebrows suggestively.  
“No, Love. Not that kind of meditation. Proving we can work in the same room without attacking one another – remember? We can meditate on one another after dinner.”  
“But you can lay with your head in my lap while you read?”  
Albus smiled. Gellert had already pushed from ‘across the room from one another’ to ‘your head in my lap.’ By the time they made it back to the room, Gellert would be insisting that Albus had agreed to full body snuggling. He loved how snuggly Gellert could be. And eager. And – safe feeling.  
“Sounds perfect.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Transitioning from Zagreb to Grein was like being plunged into a bath of ice water. Gellert’s friends, the Wurdiztals, had been kind and welcoming. Their house was beautiful, and the snow-covered grounds were even more beautiful. The back of the house provided views of the snowy peaks above them, and from the dining room they could see the Danube river valley below. Albus could see why they had been Gellert’s first choice to stay with over the holiday.

But there were difficulties. The Wurdiztals spoke German, but almost no English or French. And worse, they constantly shifted back and forth between High German and Austrian German (which Gellert insisted on calling Bavarian German - saying that there was essentially no difference. His friend Wolf had replied that perhaps the Bavarians spoke Austrian, in that case.) Gellert had been teaching Albus the widely spoken High German over the past three months, but that would not have been enough time for him to understand more than half of what was being said, even if it were being said entirely in the dialect that he was learning. Gellert’s friend Wolf had been kind enough to switch over to unmixed High German when it was just the three of them, but at all other times, Albus was even more lost than he had expected to be.  
Gellert liked to joke that Albus was fluent in ‘bedroom German,’ and indeed, almost anything that Albus could only ever say to Gellert he could say in both English and German now. This served the purpose of exciting Gellert, but it did not help Albus when it came to surviving after dinner drinks in the library.

Which brought Albus to the second difficulty: The two of them were not able to share a bed here – for the first time since July. There would be no speaking of ‘bedroom German’ in Grein. And given that almost all of their waking hours were spent with Wolf, there was not only no sex, but no snuggling, no handholding, and no flirty conversation – no conversation at all, in a sense.  
They had only managed time alone together twice in the past seven days.  
Or – three times, it was going to be, now that Gellert was hurrying into Albus’ room and shutting the door behind him.

Gellert pushed Albus back onto the bed, kissing him and tugging frantically at his shirt. He pulled away only long enough to groan, “I’ve missed you,” and then his mouth was back on Albus’ and his hand was fumbling with Albus’ fly…  
Albus rolled them over, and looked down at Gellert, gazing at him the way that he could only gaze at him when they were alone. He ran his thumb over Gellert’s lips, and Gellert grasped it in his mouth and sucked on it.  
“Gellert! Ah! Slow down, Love.”  
Albus took his thumb from Gellert’s mouth, and Gellert made a little sound of protest, then rolled them back over, so that Albus was underneath him once again.  
“I can’t slow down! I need you right now!”  
And he returned to tearing at Albus’ clothes.  
Albus looked up at him, bemused, and without so much as a word or a gesture, their clothes vanished.  
“Wizards, remember?”  
Gellert gave Albus a wicked smirk, and he realized that Gellert had intentionally provoked him into this display. 

Until now, Albus hadn’t thought about how much Gellert must be missing his wandless magic, since they had agreed to continue to keep it hidden in company. But now, he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t considered it earlier. Honestly, Albus’ wandless magic was such a kink for Gellert at this point, Albus wondered how he was managing to get off without Albus in the room to charm and hex and randomly transfigure things.  
But there was no time for any more thought before Gellert, without any preamble, engulfed Albus’ cock entirely in his mouth.  
“Geeeee-lleeeeert!” Albus shouted, and Gellert looked up, alarmed. 

Albus gasped at the sudden lack of contact, at the feel of the cold air on his wet cock.  
“It’s alright, Love. I’ve got a silencing charm up all the time.”  
“All the time? Are you sure?”  
“I check it every time I enter the room. How do you think that I am surviving this torture? Every opportunity I have to be alone in here, I am making myself come, thinking of you.”  
“You touch yourself thinking of me?”  
“Of course I do! What sort of husband would I be, not to miss you? I need you. I am so close to losing control. I almost grabbed your arse today in the library.”  
“You _did_ grab my arse today in the library.”  
“I did not. That was a wandless spell.”

Albus was telling the truth – but it was also the case that saying so had exactly the effect that he had intended; that is, it refocused Gellert’s attention and energy on what he had been doing before Albus had shouted his name.  
This time, there were no interruptions.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

After they had both come, Gellert jumped up off the bed, dressed himself, and made as if to kiss Albus goodbye. Albus pulled him back down onto the bed with him.  
“Stay.”  
Gellert sighed. “I can’t, Albus. You know I can’t.”  
“I know you can’t stay all night. Just – stay for a bit longer? So that we can talk? I miss you.”  
Gellert turned and looked at the door, and then back at Albus.

“Yes, ok.”  
He disentangled himself from Albus, stood up, and waved his wand at the chair by the fireplace, duplicating it.  
“But put on your clothes. I want us to look – unsuspicious? Is this a word, unsuspicious?”  
“Yes, but that’s not how you use it. It doesn’t matter – I know what you mean.”

Albus got out of bed, and his clothes simply appeared on him, slowly, piece by piece, as he walked towards the newly made second chair. (One must provide one’s too often alone husband with as much frigging material as possible – it fell under the Nourishment vow, or Aid, maybe… in any case, this was part of what it meant to be married – Albus was sure of it.)  
Gellert’s mouth dropped open for just a moment, and he looked as if he were about to ask Albus to do that again, only backwards, and even more slowly. Albus was slightly disappointed when Gellert quickly remembered why he was still in Albus’ room.  
“We should take down your silencing charm, too.”  
“Only if Wolf knocks – I don’t want to take it down unnecessarily and then forget to put it back up.” And he didn’t want to censor himself, tailoring what he said for an eavesdropper who likely wasn’t even there.  
Gellert nodded, and they were silent for a time. 

Albus spoke up first.  
“I can’t do this, Gellert. If I hadn’t stopped you tonight, this would have been the third time having sex and you disappearing. I can’t go a week without talking to you.”  
“You talk to me! You’ll be talking to me first thing tomorrow, at breakfast!”  
“You know what I mean.”  
Gellert sighed. “I do know what you mean, Schatz. This visit has not gone as I had intended at all. It is Wolf. He is in love –“  
“With you?”  
“Albus! No! What even made you think that? Just because you are in love with me, that doesn’t mean everyone is.” Then he smirked and added, “Only _most_ everyone.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. Why did he love this man? Oh right, this sort of behaviour was exactly why.

“Wolf is only attracted to women, Albus. And only one woman at the moment – Citta Bartos. Girl, really - he said she was two years behind us in school? I don’t remember her. In any case, Wolf’s father doesn’t think she is ‘good enough for a Wurdiztal.’ As if Wurdiztal were even a wizarding name 300 years ago.”  
Albus let this typical Pureblood name-baiting pass without comment.  
“Wolf thinks his mother might intervene, but there is very little chance of that. I have – seen – Wolf with someone else in the morning room.”  
“You had a vision? Of his future wife?”  
“Yes, it was clear to me that they were married. I didn’t recognize her, and she looked only slightly more interested in him than he was in her. I give it perhaps two years before it comes to pass. Less, probably. His father may already have signed a contract with her family, whoever she is.”

“And – this is why we have not been seeing each other, because – ?”  
“He is beside himself. And he is entirely alone in this house – there is no one else he can talk to about it. I had meant for you and I to find moments away – take a walk down to town, for instance – but I felt bad about leaving Wolf alone when we won’t be here for long anyway. I have been driving myself mad. I hate lying to him, telling him that everything will be ok.”  
“You might not be lying to him.”  
“I am! I am withholding my knowledge of his future unhappiness.”  
“Gellert. Angel. You saw a moment, not a lifetime. It is still possible he will find happiness with his wife, whoever she is.”  
Gellert looked Albus in his eyes. “I could never find happiness with anyone but you, Albus.”  
And this was also why Albus loved his husband. He was so transparent in his feelings for Albus.

Albus transfigured his chair into a chaise. “Come here, Liebling.”  
Gellert looked at Albus nervously.  
“Wolf is not the type to barge in without knocking, and if he does, I’ll make something up.”  
Gellert got up and sat next to Albus, and Albus wrapped an arm around him.  
“You are a wonderful man, and a good friend. But Wolf and Citta are not you and me. You haven’t even seen them together. It is possible that they would not be happy together, either.”

“You have been right to spend time with Wolf, but we need to make time to talk every day or two – if we had, then I would have known about Wolf, for instance, and about your vision, and I would have been able to reassure you that it is right for you not to have told him about your vision… And I would have known why it is you have been touching Wolf so much and me not at all –“  
“That’s not true!”  
“It is, Gellert. You’ve had your arm flung over his shoulder nearly non-stop. I was becoming jealous of the physical contact – it occurred to me that if this was how you treat all of your friends, then it would not look suspicious for you to put your arm around me, sometimes. But I understand now. Wolf needs comfort – and you wouldn’t feel right happily snuggling your husband around him, even if he wouldn’t understand that that was what you were doing.”  
“Yes, ok, you are right. I have been doing that. I didn’t notice I was doing it, but now that you mention it… But you have no reason to be jealous, Albus.”  
“I know that I can trust you, Love. I was just feeling touch-starved – I was jealous of the contact Wolf was getting – not of Wolf, per se. And we hadn’t talked at all about it.”  
“So you are saying that you thought he was in love with me, but that this idea you had was nothing to do with jealousy.”  
“I just – didn’t want you to be inadvertently encouraging him.”  
That sounded unconvincing even to Albus’ ears.  
Gellert looked at Albus suspiciously.  
“I think that you _were_ jealous, but you just didn’t know it.”  
Albus sighed. “Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

They sat there a bit longer, Gellert leaning against Albus, and Albus playing with his hair.  
Albus spoke quietly: “I wish you didn’t have to go. It has become difficult to sleep without you.”  
“For me, too. But I do have to go.”  
Albus groaned in frustration, gently pushed Gellert away from him, stood, and walked to the window. 

“I know, I know... I would ask you to hold me until I fall asleep, but you always fall asleep more quickly than me, so that won’t work either.”  
“No, it won’t. Here’s something that will work, though. Let’s leave and go to Prague. There will be a ball here the first week of February, and I feel we should come back – there will be important people to meet – but we can spend some time alone together in Prague. Let’s say we leave in – three days? That will make our departure seem not so abrupt. And then we will be in Prague for the New Year.”

Albus turned around, and narrowed his eyes.  
“I thought you said you had a friend in Prague that we could stay with.”  
“I do, but _could stay_ is not the same as _have to stay_. Especially if – have you sold another article?”  
“To one of my silly journals?”  
“I don’t know – was it about Transfiguration?” Gellert asked with a smirk. Albus turned Gellert’s shirt a violent orange, and Gellert shrieked indignantly before changing it back.  
“No – the latest one was Arithmancy.”  
“Well, that’s respectable at least.”  
“Writing a how-to article on more efficient cleaning charms would be respectable enough if it kept us in food and lodging!”  
“Well said, my resourceful husband. In any case, so long as you keep getting paid, we are able to keep spending what you make!” 

“Hmm. That may be, but we need more than what I make on the occasional journal article. Which reminds me, I received a letter from Lord Dupuis yesterday. He has opened a vault for me in the Paris branch of Gringotts.”  
“He did what?!”  
“Well, I have been writing to him periodically, apprising him of our progress – telling him about the people that we are meeting, and the conclusions we are drawing, and the strategies we are formulating, and he likes having the information enough that he is paying me for it, as if I were – an artist or a potioneer or something, and he were my patron.”

“Ha! So that’s where you have Isolde off to all the time!”  
Well, yes, there – and to about eight other people – at least three more French correspondents, Karen and Lady Rovanasso in Turin, two recent Slytherin graduates, and Bathilda of course, and Aberforth... He tried to group deliveries by country, so that Isolde didn’t wear herself out.  
“That’s brilliant! When were you going to tell me?”  
“What were we just talking about, Gellert? I have had no opportunity to tell you.” Which was true, strictly speaking, as Gellert had meant the vault. But he had been keeping the extent of his correspondence from Gellert – unintentionally, but nevertheless – when _was_ he going to tell Gellert about it? In Prague, he supposed – it sounded like that was not so far off now.

Gellert stood and joined Albus at the window. “I will come back tomorrow night and let you know what arrangements I have made so far for our trip, ok?”  
“Perfect.”  
Gellert kissed Albus, then pulled away. “I really do have to go, Love. See you at breakfast.”  
Albus sighed. After the door closed behind Gellert, he answered, “See you in Prague.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Albus and his secrets - _*rolls eyes*_
> 
> *************  
> [Update 6/2020 - Many thanks to Aiflenoif for answering my call of bedroom German help! I am still very glad to receive offers for translation assistance with German or any other language, and for any other suggestions / research help]  
> [The description of this fic's Discord server has likewise been updated June 2020]
> 
> If there are any fluent German speakers reading this... perhaps you could give me some help with Albus' 'bedroom German,' so that I can work it in to future chapters? Please please please? I'm not so much trusting Google translate for this.  
> If so - please reply on the Greater Good Discord server: https://discord.gg/fagBJWF
> 
> The server has three NSFW channels:  
> * 'language help' channel = the place to go if you want to tell me things like how to say 'I need your cock in me' in German ;)  
> * 'the-greater-good' = the place to discuss the story itself (because, let's face it, the story itself is NSFW)  
> * 'general' = the place to talk about social things (when a comment thread here starts to go off topic and you just want to talk with someone you met here)
> 
> There are also various channels that are *not* classified NSFW, including:  
> * Backstory  
> * Media and Sources  
> * Where to next  
> * Ottoman Empire  
> etc.


	17. Friends and Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Shared bed! Albus hoped he would never take it for granted again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanon: Wizarding political boundaries often do not line up with Muggle ones – especially in areas that adhere strongly to the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy – after all, they’ve been essentially separated from Muggles since 1692 or earlier.

Chapter 15  
January 1900

Business did not get conducted at balls or dinner parties in Bohemia. Business was conducted only in places where men gathered together without women. This annoyed Gellert’s friend Bozena to no end, as Albus learned the first time he met her and her siblings.  
Her younger brother Drahomir and twin sister Bohdana had been arguing about whether it was fair that maintaining a residence in Prague was required for Bohemian and Moravian Wizards, if they hoped to have any political influence.  
Bozena interrupted them, saying, “I am disappointed in both of you for failing to address the question of whether or not _a Witch_ will ever be allowed influence of any kind anywhere in Greater Bohemia and Moravia. At least Wizards can hope to find influence _somewhere_. I would be better off living in a tiny cottage on the border of Silesia than living here, surrounded by these men whining about the supposed limits on their power.”

Drahomir lifted a finger as if to speak. Gellert grabbed his finger and shook his head firmly, but his friend decided, unwisely, to ignore the warning.  
“Witches do have influence in Bohemia: with their husbands and their children.”  
Bozena shrieked and hexed her brother, who promptly broke out in purple spots. Then she ran from the room.  
“Not your best colour, D., but well earned,” Gellert noted with a smirk.  
He and Albus had a quick mental conversation, and then Gellert stood up.  
“I’m going to go check on her – maybe I can even get her to change you back. Albus, help him compose a proper apology, would you?”

Later that night, in their shared bed (shared bed! Albus hoped he would never take it for granted again), Albus lay beside Gellert and asked, “Tell me about Bozena?”  
Gellert propped up on one elbow. “You’re not jealous again, are you, mein Kätzchen?”  
"Kätzchen?!" Albus echoed indignantly. "Are you - did you just call me 'Kitten'?!"  
Gellert laughed. "Well you are a lynx, are you not? And a lynx is a cat, and -"  
Albus pushed Gellert onto his back and climbed on top of him. "A lynx is _not_ a small cat, and I am big even for a lynx, Gellert, honestly!"  
"Such a fierce Kätzchen! Look at him pounce on me! Does my Kitten want to play?"  
Albus rolled his eyes. "No, Gellert. Well, yes. Later. Right now, I want to talk about Bozena."  
Gellert sighed. "Off then. You are very distracting up there. You are like a half-unwrapped present, wearing only your pants."

Albus bent down and kissed Gellert's nose before rolling off of him.  
“It's not that I'm jealous Gellert. It's that - I like Bozena – I like the whole Svoboda family, really. And she seemed so upset when she left the room. I'm _glad_ you went after her, but I'm sure she told you something, and... If it wouldn’t be breaking any confidences…”  
Gellert moved to lay his head on Albus’ chest, and Albus began idly rubbing Gellert’s back.  
“No, she said that I can tell you. It is very personal, but Bozena knows about us, which made her want me to tell you, too.”  
Albus’ hand stilled.  
“It’s alright, Love. She is – she understands. She is in love with another woman herself. What her brother said – she will never willingly take a husband. Drahomir was wrong in any case, of course – Bozena is brilliant and powerful and should be recognized for it in her own right, without having a husband who may or may not be willing to act as her proxy. But it is also the case that she is in love with another woman, and if women have no power of their own – well then, it is different for her than it is for us, isn’t it? Single men may have power, and so with no one knowing we are together, we have twice as much power. She has no power, the woman she loves has no power – in Prague a Witch may not even live alone, or with another Witch. She must live with a Wizard as the head of her house – whether as a daughter or sister or wife…  
“In a small village, a Witch might live alone. But it is not possible for two Witches to live together anywhere here.  
"A Witch living alone would be seen as eccentric, but accepted as part of her community. And she might publish articles from afar – but here in Bohemia, only under an assumed male name."

Albus was appalled. "But - your Aunt Bathilda is one of the most published magical persons in Britain. To think of her not getting credit for her work..."  
“Yes. If she lived in Bohemia, Aunt Bathilda's life would have been very different.  
"In any case, Bozena's father would never agree to set her up in a small cottage by herself somewhere, and she has no money of her own. Any money she has is held in trust for her by her father - no matter how old she is. Bozena's - former lover, I suppose - has an unusual situation for a woman in Bohemia - she has an independent income. Bozena suggested that that would enable them to leave the country, go somewhere where women have more opportunities – and where the two of them are unknown and can perhaps masquerade as sisters, if necessary. But this woman suggested that instead they each marry a man, and take each other as lovers. She has already agreed to a betrothal contract.”

“Oh! How awful! I would never be able to share you with someone else! It would drive me mad!”  
Gellert moved just enough so that he could kiss Albus. “No, I could never share you either. We belong only to each other."  
Gellert kissed him again, and began to deepen the kiss before seemingly remembering that he had been in the middle of telling a story. He broke off with a sigh.

"Bozena does not believe that her lover - her used-to-be lover - would want to keep her secretly on the side simply because it would be more socially acceptable. She believes that the relationship was more one sided than she had thought, and she is heartbroken. I don't know if she is correct in this - not everyone is strong enough to stand up to that kind of pressure, no matter what they feel. This woman may in fact have loved Bozena very much. But Bozena is convinced she has been betrayed, and whether or not it was intended...”  
"Oh, Gellert. I can't imagine it! What will she do?"  
"There is _nothing_ she can do. She cannot bear the idea of having sex with a man, so marriage would be miserable for her. If she can manage to avoid marriage, then I suppose she would live with Drahomir once he marries, and probably tutor his children." 

Even holding Gellert was not enough to help Albus fall asleep that night. It seemed that Bozena was a prisoner. How many other witches were having their potential snuffed out in this way? How many other Witches and Wizards alike were unable to live with the person they loved, because they were of the wrong blood status or the wrong name - or the wrong gender? ‘The Muggle Problem’ seemed intractable enough. Now they had added ‘The Witch Problem,’ and ‘The Marriage Problem.’  
Albus was jealous that Gellert seemed able to drift off mid-conversation if he was tired enough, no matter how much was on his mind. Albus might be awake for an hour or more, his mind whirring away in dissatisfaction at being unable to immediately see a solution to Bozena's problem - to the problems of all of the Bozenas everywhere.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Their second week in Bohemia, more than 40 men gathered in Lord Svoboda’s hunting lodge to hunt boar during the day, and to drink and exchange influence in the evenings.  
There were largely older men there – certainly older than Gellert and Albus – but a handful of promising young men were often invited to these functions. Because of their connection to the Svobodas, Gellert and Albus were two of the youngest Wizards in attendance, together with Drahomir and a fourth young man whom Gellert (and therefore Albus) had not met before.  
Gellert and Albus had arrived a day early so that Albus could practice shooting. Hunting was not particularly a part of British Wizarding culture. It was generally thought of as a Muggle pastime, so he had never before fired a gun. Gellert knew how much Albus hated to be bad at anything, so he had arranged it with Lord Svoboda, who was happy to accommodate them. 

The evening before the first day of the hunt, the men gathered for drinks. Albus stood beside Drahomir.  
“Who are the important men to know here?”  
“They are all important!” laughed Drahomir. “That is why they are here!”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “Naturally, but I am not going to get to know everyone personally in three days. Who would I want to – impress, even cultivate – if I only had time for, say, four or five?”  
“Oh! This is an excellent puzzle. But I need more information. The solution depends on what you are trying to do.”  
Albus appreciated that Drahomir was really thinking about it. Gellert had not exaggerated Drahomir’s intellectual curiosity.  
“Why don’t you give me three different lists: one if I were wanting to do something scholarly – say publish an article or get a mastery. A second for if I were wanting a particular bill to pass the Rada Kouzelníků. And a third for if I were wanting to influence the culture – the general way of thinking here.”

“Why give you so much to think about if you will only care about the third? Shall I help you choose Wizards to soften up for the purpose of overthrowing the Statute of Secrecy? Or advancing the cause of Witches?”  
Albus laughed. “If I did not already know how much you and Gellert speak with each other, it would be clear now!”  
“I pass the Gellert-herding torch off to you, friend. It is not an easy job.”  
Albus looked across the room at Gellert, speaking to a friend of Drahomir’s father and gesturing broadly with a tumbler more than half full of whiskey. He quirked a small smile, while silently putting a charm on the glass to keep any from spilling.  
“No, but it is an enjoyable one.”  
Drahomir slapped Albus on the back. “Better you than me!”

“What you need is for me to make introductions for you. Everyone here is going to be speaking Czech first – it is a matter of pride. But they will switch over to German for you – which I’ve noticed you speak fairly well, but not perfectly.”  
“That is a generous assessment of my abilities, Drahomir.”  
“Perhaps. I think your standards for fluency are too high. But if you wish, I could stay with you to help fill in any conversational holes.  
"And you are a Legilimens too, I think? That will help you catch the nuances that you miss with the language barrier. And you have my permission to read me as we go, if you want to compare my impressions to yours. I can occlude everything besides my impressions of the evening, so you don’t have to worry about invading my privacy.”  
Albus looked at Drahomir cautiously.  
Drahomir answered his unspoken question. “Gellert didn’t tell me, but – I’ve seen the way the two of you meet eyes and then there is this slight shift in behaviour or attitude afterwards, as if you have been silently communicating. Well done, teaching him how to do that, by the way.”  
"I didn't -"  
"You did. He didn't know legilimency at Durmstrang."

Drahomir was – very observant. An asset to be sure, as long as he remained their friend. A hazard if he didn’t. Better not to say that to Gellert – he was sure never to question this friend’s loyalty. And for now, he was probably right, but Albus would be keeping an eye on him.  
“Can you teach me a greeting in Czech? So that I don’t seem rude?”  
Drahomir grinned. “Oh yes, you will do very nicely. Let’s get to work, shall we?”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The day before they were to leave Prague, Albus was just leaving a bakery with pastries for his and Gellert’s breakfast when the mother of a fellow Slytherin saw him.  
“Albus? Is that you?”  
Why did people always ask that? He was tempted to say, ‘I’m sorry – who?’ every time someone asked that. Obviously, Olivia Harley knew that it was him – he had spent part of his Spring Break with her family every year, starting Third Year. It seemed to Albus that ‘what a surprise to see you here’ would have been a much more sensible thing to say.

“Mrs. Harley. How is Mr. Harley? And Lewis?”  
The conversation went on from there, with the requisite condolences over the loss of his mother, and the usual meaningless social niceties which served to preserve the connections between oneself and people who might prove to be of use later. 

It seemed that the banalities were drawing to a close, and he was preparing to take his leave when he was surprised by Mrs. Harley unexpectedly proving herself to be of use not later but now, at this unlooked for time, without any effort being required on his part.  
“I am surprised to see you in Prague, considering your sister. That is, I’m sure she is well taken care of in St. Mungo’s, but I would have thought that you would have wanted to help with the campaign to protect Wizardkind from The Muggle Threat.”

In a moment, Albus pieced together what had happened. Albus had not released the story, and he knew that Aberforth would never have agreed to release the story, either. Which meant that there was a leak at St. Mungo’s, a leak at the DMLE, or – Headmaster Black. The bastard. Black was using Ariana for political gain.  
Well. Two could play.  
“Ah. Well you see, I am not yet ready to support any definite measures. I agree that Muggles are a threat, but until I see how other countries are handling Muggle-Wizard relations… Well, I would hate for Britain to neglect to learn from the mistakes of more hasty, less thoughtful Wizarding nations.”

“I am so sorry, Albus. I should have known that you had a reason – you have always been such an intelligent boy. But I would advise you not to be gone too long. Alfred Flint is pushing for a permanent Dumbledore seat to be added to the Wizengamot, in honor of your family’s sacrifices, he says.”  
Of course it was Flint. It was an open secret that Flint didn’t sneeze unless Phineas Nigellus Black told him to do so.  
“And I wouldn’t be surprised if the Headmaster is hoping to be made the Dumbledore proxy in your absence. It has become common knowledge that he is your brother's guardian,” Mrs. Harley continued.  
Black had not been wasting any time.  
“If you are not wanting any ‘hasty’ decisions to be made – well, you can draw your own conclusions.”

Indeed, Albus had already drawn his conclusion – he would be staying away from Britain until the seat was well established. Now that Black had exploited his family, Albus might as well let him and his lackeys do all the work to carve out a place for him on the Wizengamot. If Albus waited long enough, he would only have to walk into the chambers and find a seat waiting for him.

No wonder Aberforth hadn’t written to him. He probably blamed Albus’ absence for the intense scrutiny it seemed their family history was under in the press. ‘If you were here,’ Albus could imagine Aberforth saying, ‘this would not be happening.’  
And Aberforth was right – Albus would never have exploited Ariana - nor Aberforth, for that matter - for political gain in this way. But he was not above benefiting from the results, now that the damage was already done. 

“Thank you so much for the news, and for your advice, Mrs. Harley.”  
“Oh, Olivia, dear. I think now that you have graduated it is more appropriate for you to use my first name. After all, we’ve known each other for years.”  
“Thank you, Olivia. If you and Mr. Harley would like to know more about what I am learning on my travels –“  
“That would be lovely, Albus! Thank you so much for the offer. Would it be alright for Charles to share what you send?”

Yes, in fact that was precisely what Albus had been hoping. Charles Harley had a seat on the Wizengamot, and he had a fascinatingly diverse group of associates. The ease with which Mr. Harley moved between different factions had been one of the reasons Albus had befriended Lewis in the first place.  
“If he deems something I send worth sharing, then I would be honoured.  
“But I’m afraid I must be going – I am wanted elsewhere.” By Gellert. Who was probably wondering why Albus was taking so long to get pastries.  
“Please do give my regards to your husband and to Lewis.” 

Albus had always been a planner, but once more, serendipity had proven to be his friend. If he had not left England, the self-serving Headmaster would not have had the opportunity to inadvertently set Albus up for an earlier than expected political ascendancy. And if his favourite Muggle bakery had not been closed this morning, he would not have been in the Wizarding district to meet Olivia Harley. What had started as an ordinary day was already working out very much in his favour. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

February 1900

When Albus and Gellert arrived back in Grein, they found that a letter from Bathilda had arrived just hours after their departure for Prague, and had been held for their return. The letter revealed that Lord Grindelwald had been delaying making a decision about Gellert’s relationship to the family, and in the interim, Bathilda had been working on both of Gellert’s parents. It had been decided that the news would slowly be circulated that Gellert had been ‘relieved of his obligations as Heir Grindelwald, in order to pursue his studies and his political aspirations abroad,’ and that those ‘obligations’ had been transferred to Gellert’s younger brother. 

Albus gathered that this - what Bathilda elsewhere in her letter called, 'liberation' - had a particular meaning within Pureblood culture in the areas that had once been governed by the Holy Roman Empire. Officially, it meant that the line of inheritance would be carried through his brother. It was not, however the same as being disinherited – instead, it was as if he and his brother had traded places, as far as the relationship to the family went. Gellert was no longer expected to marry (though he might), nor was he expected to return to Bavaria (though he might.)  
Unofficially, it meant that Gellert’s parents meant for him never to return to Bavaria, while anyone else in their social circle understood his return to be ‘unlikely.’ It was also understood that he was almost certain to remain unmatched. After all, a Wizard was often ‘liberated’ when suspected of being unable to father children. It was by no means the only reason for this sort of arrangement, but that was not the sort of question one could ask politely, so many families assumed the worst and declined to match their daughters with 'liberated' heirs. This was very good news for Albus, who continued to hold a grudge against the Rosier family, after their single-minded pursuit of Gellert as a potential husband for Vinda. 

There was a pragmatic benefit as well. As Gellert was decidedly not disinherited, and was of legal age, he now had control over his vault, and an annual income. The financial constraints on their travel, which had been alleviated by Lord Dupuis’ gift, had been entirely removed with this news. 

Bathilda’s letter made their return to Grein a much happier occasion than Albus had supposed it would be. But he was in for another happy surprise: the new sleeping arrangements. Before they had left, Gellert had, without telling Albus, decided to trust Wolf at least far enough to ask him if he and Albus might have adjoining rooms upon their return, ‘with a shared parlour between, so that Albus and I might have the opportunity to speak English together for a little while each evening before we retire.’

As they stood in front of a door in the guest wing, Gellert and Wolf had a brief animated conversation that Albus had not understood at all. Gellert told him afterwards that they had been speaking Hungarian, because Wolf didn’t want to risk embarrassing Albus by speaking about sleeping arrangements in front of him. 

As Gellert told the story later, the conversation had gone something like this:

_‘I said adjoining rooms – this is one room.’  
‘Technically speaking, it is a single room with adjoining quarters.'  
'Servant's quarters?! Wolf!'  
'Adjoining guest rooms are for married couples, Gellert, as you well know. I couldn’t ask Mother to give you adjoining rooms. This was the best I could do.’  
'Servant's quarters. What does your mother think Albus is to me?'  
'Unofficially? Your tutor.'_

_'My tutor?!'  
'She does not believe that story about finishing school early. Apparently she thinks you were too dim for Durmstrang.'  
'She does not!'  
'She would if she knew that you had asked for adjoining rooms.'  
'A small servant's room is entirely inadequate for Albus, Wolf. I would have him treated as -'  
‘Do be serious, Gellert. He will not be staying in that room, anyway. What difference does it make?’  
‘I’m not sure what you mean.’  
‘Don’t pretend I’m thick. _You asked for adjoining rooms. _Did you honestly think I would not know why?'_

 _‘Wolf – It’s not – Albus and I are not – ‘  
'There's no need to try to spare my feelings, Gellert. It's not like I want to fuck you.'  
'How could you?! I have it on good authority that I am quite fuckable.'  
‘That's enough out of you, idiot. Albus is standing here waiting for you to finish flirting with me. It would be enough for you to simply say, “Thank you, Wolf,” and be done with it.'_

The rest, Albus knew. It must have been at this point that Gellert gave Wolf a mischievous smile and a very wet kiss on the cheek, and Wolf burst into laughter and gave Gellert a shove, because all of that had happened just before Gellert had (apparently in perfect obedience) said, 'Thank you, Wolf’ (in German, so that Albus could understand.)  
Gellert then added that they were ‘going to unpack’ (this was a very flimsy alibi, Albus thought, given that all three of them knew very well that a house elf would be unpacking their things for them), and that they would shortly join Wolf in the library.  
And then Gellert swept into the room, pulling Albus behind him.

Gellert closed and locked the door and silenced the room with a wave of his hand. Clearly the meditation had been working. In that moment, Albus found he understood the appeal of a man who could casually do wandless magic.  
Gellert vanished Albus’ clothes (wandlessly!) and lifted Albus onto the bed. “Sorry, Love, but I don’t have the patience to remove your clothing by hand.”  
He threw Albus legs over his shoulders, and began devouring his arse.  
“For all the gods," Albus groaned, "Don’t apologize!”  
It was not long before Gellert was positioning himself. As he began to enter Albus, he looked Albus in the eyes, and said, “Together, Albus.”

This was something new. They had only done it once before, and it was not easy. Sex with Gellert was intense enough as it was. But using Legilimency on one another while making love was electric – being awash in the emotions that Gellert had for him – there was nothing like it. And it seemed like Gellert felt the same way. The last time, however, Albus had broken eye contact long before they had come – the resonance had been simply overwhelming.  
‘Together, Albus’ – Albus would have known what that meant even if he didn’t see it in Gellert’s mind now – he wanted to try to come together this time – together meaning at the same time, and together meaning feeling each other’s experience together with their own by remaining in one another’s minds as they came. 

Already, he was lit up, feeling everything double – his own feelings and Gellert’s at the same time, his own sensations and Gellert’s at the same time. It was like being two people and one person at the same time, which expressed perfectly what he wanted – what he needed – from Gellert this afternoon – and maybe always.  
He wanted to kiss Gellert, but didn’t want to break eye contact and lose the feeling. He wondered what it would feel like to be able to kiss this way – if there was some way to experience this union even with intermittent breaking of eye contact. Perhaps – 

Gellert laughed, and stopped thrusting for a moment. He laid his hand on Albus’ chest.  
“My Heart. I love your beautiful, beautiful mind. And we can investigate advanced legilimency with no eye contact later, I promise. But right now, my cock is in your arse, and it is a bit insulting that you can think about anything else.  
“So, maybe I need to up my game, hmmm?”  
It turned out that locking doors and removing clothing were not the only things Gellert could do wandlessly. He grasped Albus’ cock and whispered a couple of words and – Holy Fuck! Albus had almost forgotten that simulated oral sex spell that Gellert had invented months ago. He had clearly improved it as well – tailored it to fit everything he had learned about Albus in the interim, and – aaaaaa!

Both of their brains became empty of all words and full of sensation, until Albus began to feel the need for his release building, and all of his muscles tightening – and at the same time, he felt the intensity of Gellert’s need to come, which was somehow both the same and different from his own, and he felt Gellert feeling his need, and their ecstasy was spiraling into and around each other in a sensation so intense that, as they came, Albus screamed his voice gone, and Gellert passed out - which would prove to be quite alarming to Albus, when he finally noticed. 

It had, to his shame, not been the thought of Gellert that first pulled him out of his dizzy sensory overload, but the remnants of all of the accidental magic released in what Albus was now referring to as, ‘Holy Fuck, What the Devil Was That?’ (He couldn’t very well call it _an orgasm_. He had had orgasms. He liked orgasms. He _loved_ orgasms. What had just happened was – was – he didn’t know what it was. Maybe he would think about it when he regained the feeling in his toes, when his fingers stopped twitching, when the slightest breeze on his leg hair stopped producing orgasmic aftershocks. Fuck. That was – fuck.)

He was lying in bed spinning (metaphorically - he thought that he was probably not actually spinning – he couldn’t tell exactly), when he heard the crash of every piece of furniture, every knick knack, every book, every candlestick, as they dropped to the floor. It seemed that there had been so much excess magic built up between Gellert and Albus that everything in the room had literally been levitating.  
Had Gellert and Albus been levitating too? Or –  
What was that smell?

He turned his head, and – were the curtains was on fire? They had levitated all the furniture and set the curtains on fire. He went to tell Gellert, and – realized that he was pinned under what he was horrifyingly certain was the corpse of his husband.

Of course, Gellert wasn’t actually dead, but Albus was so emotional in the moment, so overwhelmed by the enormity of what they had been capable of doing _by accident_ , while at the same time having been so deeply a part of Gellert that it seemed unnatural not to be able to feel him – why couldn’t he feel him?! (‘Because I was unconscious, and my eyes were closed, Liebling!’ Gellert explained later. Albus had been offended. ‘Well, that’s obvious now, but it felt strange for you to be so far away when you had been so close just moments before.’)  
In less than 10 seconds (though it felt like hours), Albus realized that Gellert couldn’t be dead, because he could feel the rising and falling of Gellert's chest against his own, and Gellert's breath against his neck. Being reassured that he had not killed his husband in a foolish quest for still better sex, he calmed sufficiently to put out the fire. Then he pushed his unconscious husband off of him (‘Can’t! Breathe!’), and began to drift off as well. 

When they were finally able to string words together, nearly 20 minutes later, Gellert and Albus agreed that legilimency while coming at the same time was a bit like standing between two mirrors – if mirrors reflected sensation instead of light. They disagreed, however, about whether this had been a successful experiment.

“If it were possible to contain the infinite...” began Gellert.  
“Our orgasms are already infinite enough as it is,” said Albus.  
“Infinite enough? That does not even make sense.”  
“Mathematically, no. Pragmatically, yes. Gellert, it’s dangerous. We should think twice before trying this again.”

“Aren’t you the one who always says, ‘this requires more study?’ I think that this might require more study.” Gellert said, looking at Albus with mock innocence.  
“Gellert! I was afraid we had killed you!”  
“But we didn’t!”  
Albus gave him a stern look.

Gellert tried again. “Is it possible to feel too much for you, Love?”  
“If it gives you a heart attack? Yes.”  
“What if – either one of us can pull away if we feel one of us shutting down physically.”  
“We _won’t notice_ , Gellert. If we are both near to coming an arguably limitless number of times all at the same time? _Coming is losing control, by definition_ – how would we - ? No.”

“On special occasions, at least?”  
Albus was well aware that Gellert could stretch just about anything into a ‘special occasion.’ (‘We got up 30 minutes earlier than usual!’ or ‘It is only two days until the full moon!’ or ‘Oh! I haven’t seen you do that spell before!’) And in any case, it seemed no better to stop breathing on an especially good day.  
“Gellert.”  
“Ok, how about this? We can take turns coming. No legilimency with simultaneous orgasms.”  
“Participating in your orgasm is sure to give me one. If this experience convinced me of anything, it is that simultaneous orgasms are _inevitable_ when we are using legilimency on each other.”

Gellert looked smug, like he had won something. Like he knew he would be able to talk Albus into trying this again, given enough time. But Albus had no intention of folding. This time they had gone too far, even if it had been _the most incredible_...  
Oh.  
Gellert had set Albus up for that ‘simultaneous orgasms are inevitable’ observation. He wanted that to resonate in Albus’ head in Albus’ own voice. He had a genius for manipulation. Which probably should give Albus pause, but he couldn’t help but admire it – be excited by it.  
After all, wherever Gellert’s scheming took them, it was always, always worth it. Albus couldn’t wait to see what boundary Gellert would transgress next.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Wolf had not seemed a bit surprised at how long it had taken the two of them to ‘unpack,’ though he didn’t tease them about it the way Bathilda would have. Albus appreciated his reticence, and was grateful that they immediately began discussing the ball that was taking place the following night.  
Every year, the Wurdiztal family threw a ball to celebrate the birthday of Wolf’s maternal grandfather - Lord Weiterberg. Every Austrian wizarding family of political importance would be represented – but there would also be wizards there from Liechtenstein, Hungary, Bohemia… and Bavaria. Wolf had received word that Gellert’s brother would be attending in his parents’ stead. 

Albus had not realized what a big event this was – and he certainly hadn’t anticipated that any members of Gellert’s family might be there. There would probably be friends of Gellert’s father there, as well. Without thinking, Albus reached out and grabbed Gellert’s hand. He noticed that this caught Wolf’s attention, and he let go of Gellert’s hand casually, as if he hadn’t been doing it.  
Wolf rolled his eyes. “Oh, go ahead. Just don’t be an idiot in front of anyone else.” Albus blushed, but then Gellert bumped his shoulder against Albus’ encouragingly, and took his hand back. 

It mystified Albus that Bozena, Karen, and seemingly Wolf were so at ease with the idea of two men having a sexual relationship. He had come to accept Bathilda's support, but... it felt strange to have other people know. It made some things easier, of course. Like getting to hold hands with Gellert right now, for instance. But Albus knew it made them vulnerable - there were those who would use the information against them. The more people who knew, the greater the danger. The world – both Muggle and Wizarding – was not so accepting as one day it would be, when he and Gellert took control of...  
Gods. He was converted. Gellert had convinced him, and he hadn’t even noticed it happening. 

Gellert misinterpreted the look of mixed surprise and concern on Albus’ face.  
“There’s no need to be worried, Schatz. I’m going to be fine. I'm actually looking forward to seeing my brother.”  
Albus already knew that Gellert would be fine – Albus would do whatever he had to in order to ensure it. But he was keenly aware that Gellert had avoided even crossing through Bavaria, just three months before. Now, Bavaria was coming to him.

Albus would have preferred to spare Gellert whatever was coming his way the next evening. But if Gellert thought that going to this ball would be an important part of remaking the Wizarding World, then they would attend – for the greater good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we have the words “the greater good!” I had wanted the first time the words were spoken to be when talking about something innocuous / trivial – so when this ball presented itself, I couldn’t resist the opportunity. Yep, a ball – that’s Albus’ great sacrifice for The Greater Good.  
> Though... as the next couple of chapters will show... he was maybe not so much exaggerating.


	18. Performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Aiflenoif for helping me with Albus’ ‘bedroom German’  
> I now have a long list of short phrases for Albus to use when he wants to drive Gellert crazy.
> 
> Just one in this chapter:  
> Ich liebe wie du schmekst = I love the way you taste
> 
> In other news, no _actual_ rabbits were harmed in the making of this chapter. But there were a few literary rabbits that did not make it. RIP

Chapter 16  
February 1900

Albus had finished licking the come off of Gellert’s chest, and was starting to move lower, to clean up his belly as well. After that, he was going to lick the come off of Gellert’s cock, and then he was planning to make Gellert come again, with his mouth this time...  
But Gellert reached down and laid his hand on Albus’ shoulder.  
“Liebling. Please, you need to stop. The ball is in an hour and a half, and Wolf is going to be here any minute.”  
Albus lifted up his head without changing his position. “Are you sure?” he wheedled. “My mouth is not quite done with you. Ich liebe wie du schmeckst.”  
Gellert tipped back his head and moaned softly, but did not give in. “I’m serious Albus. Up.”

Albus sighed, but obediently rolled away from Gellert and got out of bed.  
“I don’t understand why you invited Wolf to get ready with us.”  
Gellert sat up and cast a quick cleansing spell on them both.  
“Because otherwise I would never get you off of me, and we would have to go to the ball naked.”  
“Or we could just not go.”  
Albus didn’t mean it. He knew that they would be going, no matter how miserable the whole experience inevitably would be.  
“Aha! No, Liebling. You were looking forward to the ball until you heard that my brother was coming.”

Albus frowned. That might be true – but his new reluctance seemed altogether reasonable, under the circumstances. He didn’t mind meeting Gellert’s brother – he wanted to, in fact he was all too curious – but he didn’t want Gellert to be hurt.  
There was a knock at the door.  
“Trousers, Albus.”

“Fine, fine.” Albus pulled on his trousers, and went to the door to admit Wolf.  
Wolf looked at Albus’ bare chest and rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not here to join you two, right?”  
Albus blushed and turned away, but not before Gellert called from the bed, “That’s good, because we are not offering. Which if you had any sense, would disappoint you tremendously.”  
Albus wondered if there was enough room in the wardrobe to hide himself.

Gellert got out of bed, dressed only in a sheet, walked up to Albus, and gave him a hug from behind. “It’s ok, Love. We’re just teasing.” Then he kissed Albus on the back of his neck.  
“That’s enough, you guys. Gellert, avoiding this sort of thing is exactly why you invited me, I imagine. So stop pretending I’m not here...”  
“Wolf, you would be seeing a great deal more if I was pretending that you weren’t here.”  
Wolf rubbed his forehead and sighed the long-suffering sigh anyone close to Gellert sighed at one time or another. “Just – let’s focus on getting ready.”

Thanks to the vault that Lord Dupuis had set up for Albus, he had been able to purchase new dress robes – three sets, actually. Gellert had come along with him, and had largely been responsible for choosing the colours, the fabric, the cut, and the finish of each one. It was not that Albus was _completely_ hopeless about this sort of thing, but he had to admit that Gellert was better at knowing what would look best on him, and in any case, he didn’t have as much of an opinion as Gellert did, so he didn’t really mind.  
Generally, it seemed that Gellert preferred various shades of green for him – and as neutrals went, thought browns were better for him than greys, ‘but those won’t do for a winter ball, Liebling,’ so tonight Albus was wearing navy blue with cobalt trim and a plum coloured vest. Albus never would have picked these colours for himself, but he had to admit that he looked far better tonight than he would have in his grey robes.

It did not take Albus long to dress, and with his hair short, he didn’t have much to do. So he sat in a chair by the fire watching Wolf and Gellert take an absurdly long time choosing what to wear, and how to wear it – and then how to style their hair. Wolf eventually came and sat with Albus while Gellert began discarding every shoe in the wardrobe as inadequate. 

Wolf gestured for Albus to leave the room with him. Albus stood, and looked over at Gellert.  
“Gellert?”  
Their eyes met for no more than a couple of seconds – long enough for a conversation. 

‘Is this ok? You don’t mind if I leave?’  
‘It’s fine. Unless you would you rather stay here and help me pick out shoes?’  
‘You don’t want my help with your shoes. Anyway, anything I’d rather do with you is something I can’t do with Wolf in the room.’  
‘Patience, Liebling. May as well see what he wants, since you can’t – do not push that memory at me Albus, for all the gods! I’m trying to focus here.’  
‘Yes. Very important shoe decisions being made. Understood. I will wait to think about the way your mouth feels on my cock until –‘  
‘Albus! I am serious! I am breaking eye contact any moment now!’  
‘Yes, Ok. You don’t know what Wolf wants?’  
‘My best guess is that he wants to make sure you are not going to hurt me. Best not tell him about the biting.’  
‘Very funny. Now who is teasing whom? Have you told him - ?’  
‘No – I’ve not told him that we’re married. Even Bozena doesn’t know.’  
‘Good. I love you.’  
‘I love you too.’

Gellert shrugged. “Go on – I may be a while.”  
Wolf shook his head and laughed. 

After Albus’ conversation with Drahomir at his father’s hunting lodge, he and Gellert had been working on making their silent conversations less obvious - or at least less obviously based in Legilimency. It wasn’t that hard, as it turned out. All it took was a little bit of talking, a few gestures, and any shift in their demeanor would appear to an outsider to be easily explained... no wonder Drahomir had figured it out – they’d made it too easy for him.

As he shut the door behind them, Wolf told Albus,“He is going to take all the time he has left and still not be satisfied. Who needs that many pairs of shoes?”  
Albus agreed. He hated to think of how Gellert would cope in a world without extension charms.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus followed Wolf down the hall to what must have been his room.  
“You know he is going to be ok, right?”  
Albus didn’t know what to say to this. He didn’t believe for a moment that Gellert was going to be ok. Of course, Gellert would _appear_ to be fine. And many would think that that meant he was in fact fine, given how effusive he could be at times. He gave the impression of someone who did not hide his emotions very well, but he did. Certainly, no one would have the first indication if he was feeling scared or rejected or empty or –

“Right. You don’t believe me. Albus, Gellert’s brother admires him. Adores him. Near worships him, even. His parents’ opinion of Gellert is not going to change that. At all. You might have needed to worry about Gellert if his father were coming, but he is not.  
“I was surprised to hear that the Grindelwalds are letting Otto come without them – he just turned 15. But perhaps they are trying to demonstrate that he is ready to succeed his father, since everyone knows they had not been grooming him for that role until quite recently. And perhaps his father thought that that would be best communicated if he were the official representative of the family at a social event like this one. In any case, I understand he will be accompanied by the parents of the girl he has been betrothed to, so...”

“Betrothed?! At 15?!”  
Some of Albus’ housemates had been betrothed, after a fashion, but in Britain, such arrangements were informal, and fairly private until graduation. Wizards and Witches both could refuse the matches their parents set for them with little consequence. Marrying without their parents’ consent could get a Witch or Wizard disowned, but not refusing an arranged match. This was probably the main reason that betrothals in Britain were not announced publicly until the children were of age.  
“At 14. It happened this summer. But it’s ok, Albus. He has known her since they were small children – and they are fond of each other.” Wolf looked away, and said more quietly, “This sort of thing happens sometimes in Pureblood families.”

“Was Gellert –“  
“Yes. To the same girl, incidentally. Much to Otto’s dismay – I think that he has loved Lina all his life. So this will work out best for everyone, truly. Lina’s father... well, I imagine he was unhappy at first, but he still gets to marry his daughter to Heir Grindelwald, so I can’t imagine he will be a problem.”  
“To sum up, Gellert will be fine with Otto. And thanks to his father’s recent announcement, he should have no problem with anyone who knows the family. He may receive some gentle ribbing, and some impertinent questions, but nothing he won’t be able to handle. You know – you’ve seen him. If he takes a hit, no one will know – and the culprit will come out of the interaction worse off than Gellert will. If any damage is done, it will take no more than half an hour to fix after getting him back to your room at the end of the night. Ok? But it will probably be for the best if you stay apart from one another all evening. No longing looks from across the room, no ‘coming to his rescue.’ And dance with at least five women, none of them twice. With his liberation, people might...“

Might what? Might find it suspicious if Gellert and the person he is known to have been travelling with simply ignore one another completely all evening? As if the two of them didn’t have plenty of practice giving each other space at these sorts of events - pretending to be only casual friends.  
“Finally, make a point to find and talk to Otto – he will want to meet you.”

Albus was relieved to hear about Gellert’s brother. Grateful to Wolf for telling him, truly.  
But were Wolf’s rules about how Albus and Gellert must behave at the ball really so necessary? It seemed terrifically unfair that he couldn’t so much as look at his husband all evening. He would certainly find a way around that!  
And then, he remembered Wolf’s own situation, and began to feel a bit selfish.

“How about you? Are you going to be ok, Wolf?”  
“You are asking about Citta? She won’t be here. Father pointedly didn’t invite the Bartos family.”  
“And?”  
“And what?”  
“You said something about betrothal contracts.”

“Albus. I haven’t even told Gellert.”  
Albus just looked at Wolf and waited.  
Wolf walked over to the window and ran his fingers over the heavy velvet curtains. “Yes, father has been negotiating a contract.” He looked over at Albus. “But it hasn’t been concluded. She is going to be here, and I will be expected to dance mostly with her. But it is too early to know if I will be marrying her, or even if I will be seeing her after tonight.”  
“Wolf, I’m –“  
“Don’t say it. She’s pretty, she’s smart, and my parents like her. If Father chooses her, I imagine we’ll be able to make it work.”  
'Make it work.' Gods.

Albus did understand the drive to look for the advantage in any social interaction – why should marriage be any different? And yet – love was such a powerful force. There was no greater advantage than that which a partnership of mutual love and respect could afford. How could the parents brokering these marriages not see how they were crippling their children – withholding from them one of the only true sources of power?  
Not that he had been thinking strategically about Gellert in the beginning – loving Gellert had not been a decision, but if it had been, it was the least strategically motivated decision of his life. Those early days had been like being a stone carried down a mountain in a landslide of emotion. There had been no stopping it, no dictating the path it would take. Many days, it still felt like that. Most days, maybe.  
Nevertheless, their love for one another did carry many advantages – it was clear now that both of them – and the people around them – were better off with them being together. 

None of this mattered for Wolf, who didn’t seem to think that there was a way out of an arranged marriage. And maybe there wasn’t, for him. Not everyone was as brave, or as confident, or as charismatic as Gellert. Few were prepared to throw everything away, believing that they could win it all back and more. And fewer still were equipped to make good on that resolution. Gellert was – extraordinary.

Wolf was looking at Albus, waiting patiently.  
“Albus. What are you and Gellert to one another? What have – has he made any promises – have you made any promises to him, and will you –“  
Albus rescued Wolf from his difficulty. “We love each other, Wolf. I promise you I will look after him and not hurt him, ok?”  
Wolf took a deep breath and let it out. “Good. Yes. He is a good friend. And he – it is evident how he feels about you, but I – I’m sorry I didn’t –“

Albus laughed. He was not a bit sorry that he was harder to read than Gellert. Although – he did think that Gellert was much harder to read than people tended to think. Gellert layered emotions on top of emotions – what was on the surface was almost never indicative of what was underneath. The result was that everyone thought they knew Gellert well – people who noticed that there were different Gellerts tended to think that they were the ones who knew _the real Gellert_. Wolf, though – Albus thought Gellert probably let Wolf see who he was beneath, more often than not.  
“It’s ok. I’ve been told I’m not easy to read. And I’ve been getting entirely too much practice having to pretend to be simply Gellert’s newest friend.”  
Oh. Wait, no. That was not going to be enough. Wolf had seen him flinching when Gellert kissed him earlier.  
“And I feel uncomfortable showing affection in front of other people – even people who know. Two men... it doesn’t feel safe. Yesterday in the library was – an anomaly.”

Wolf nodded, seemingly satisfied.  
“You still have twenty minutes left before time for you and Gellert to make your appearances. Better to stagger it – arrive – three minutes apart? That should be enough. But given that you have a little bit of time... go find your boyfriend before he tears apart the family wing looking for you. I tease him, but – he is sure to have sorted out his shoes by now.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus hated dancing. He was passably good at it, and he did like music, but – it was the 'eligible' girls. And the married women, for that matter. The hopeful look in his dance partner’s eye, or, almost as bad, a disdainful one, particularly upon learning his blood status. Her face, entirely too close to his for three minutes or more. The light, suggestive touches that arose out of license rather than any real interest. Trying to find something to speak about that would be – neutral. 

He knew that Witches could be just as intelligent as Wizards. He knew that they could wield as much power as Wizards – both political and magical. But put one in his arms, and suddenly she was ready to offer herself up on a platter as if she were a fish, and he were a dinner guest. Or – if she turned on him before the dance was through, as if he were no more than an errant dog trying to steal food from the table.  
There were sure to be women of interest here – women who could provide some useful information or intellectual entertainment – but in a room full of strangers, it was difficult to tell which women those might be.  
Until he spotted Bozena. 

Bozena Svoboda was standing near the edge of the room, speaking with an older woman.  
“Thank the gods,” he whispered under his breath, and made his way towards her with no more haste than was seemly.  
When he reached her he interrupted, “Lady Bozena?”  
She turned and curtseyed. “Mr. Dumbledore. Allow me to introduce Lady Ana Maritrea.”  
Albus kissed the air above Lady Maritrea’s hand.  
“A pleasure, Lady Maritrea. I hope that it would not inconvenience you if I were to take away your charming conversation partner for a dance?”  
Lady Maritrea replied, “Not at all, dear. As long as you promise to come back and talk to me afterwards! I have heard that you have some very interesting ideas.”  
Albus bowed to her. “As you wish, Lady Maritrea. You are most gracious.”  
Then he held his hand out to Bozena. “Lady Bozena? Would you join me for a dance?”  
Bozena’s eyes danced with what looked like restrained laughter. “By all means, Mr. Dumbledore. Lead the way.”

Once on the dance floor, Albus confessed, “I hate everything about this.”  
“Everything, Albus? That is no way to win the heart of a lady!” Bozena corrected him playfully.  
Albus laughed. “No, of course not _everything_. You are delightful as always.”  
“Well done. A fine save,” said Bozena.  
“I am just irritable, because Wolf has given me a number of strict instructions about my behaviour. For instance, I am not allowed to look at Gellert all evening.”

“Oh you poor little duckling!” Bozena chided in mock sympathy. “As if you were not the luckiest one here. You have the man you love in your bed, and he is the most intelligent, most charming, best looking one in the room.”  
“Now who is breaking whose heart? I am not the most intelligent, most charming, best looking man in the room?”  
Bozena rolled her eyes. “If I had said it was you, you would be championing Gellert. There is no winning.”

Albus laughed. Bozena was quick witted and guaranteed not to be interested in marriage. He would dance with her all evening if it were not unseemly to dance several times with someone to whom he was not betrothed. Ordinarily, he would be looking for what new alliances he could make at an event like this one, but tonight he would have been satisfied only to strengthen this one. Not least because it would spare him all of the insipid flirtation on display tonight.  
“Five dances,” he muttered.  
“What?” asked Bozena.  
“Wolf told me that I had to dance one dance only with each of at least five women. I would much rather have leave to dance only with you.”

Bozena smiled. “And now you have truly given me a proper compliment, Albus. But that would lead to talk, as you and I both know. And Gellert might come to doubt our respective interests.”  
And her father would likely not tolerate her allowing a Halfblood so much of her time and attention – being a friend of the family did not necessarily make him marriage material. But it would not do to say so, even to Bozena.  
“Ha! Yes, let’s not provoke Gellert.”  
They gathered their thoughts in silence.

“It was Gellert who insisted that we come – said that it would be politically important. But instead this is the first conversation I have had with someone who is not trying to decide whether I am worth marrying." Or worth seducing. Ever since Turin, Albus had been hyper-aware of the attentions of married women.  
"It has been a very long evening.”  
“I know what you mean," Bozena sympathised. "I hate these balls. At our age, every dance is only a prelude to marriage. That is the only reason Father brought me here. I’m not exaggerating – he said so himself. So – however worthless the evening has been for you politically, I’m glad that you did come, so that you could spare me at least one dance with a tiresome man hoping to marry me.”

Albus thought a moment. The evening was not necessarily a waste. Bozena could be such an asset. She was being squandered as an ornament – which was all she would ever be in Wizarding Bohemia. Was it better to approach the matter directly? Or obliquely?

“You look marvelous tonight, Bozena – it’s no wonder you’ve had so many would be suitors tonight. But it is not right that your beauty is all that most people in this room have thought to look for in you. I wish you could – to be frank, I think that you ought to leave Prague.”  
Bozena huffed in frustration. “And how, exactly, am I to do that? I have no money of my own. I am not like you and Gellert. And before you offer, you do not have nearly enough money to share with me.”

In truth, they probably did have enough money now. But if they were to support her directly, it would alienate the rest of the Svoboda family – and so lose them other supporters in Prague as well. Better for Albus’ involvement to remain – difficult to prove.  
Bozena continued, “Even if you did, I am not angling for a handout. I am simply saying – I don’t have the opportunities that you do.”  
“I know. And Gellert and I want to change that if we can. And not just for you – there are so many Witches... but in the meantime, I think that all you need is a sponsor. You are an extraordinarily intelligent Pureblood with considerable social skills. It would not be difficult to find someone who will pay to set you up in some position – politics, research, journalism – because of what you can offer.”

Already the dance was drawing to a close. Too soon! Albus had so much more left to say.  
“Just – be thinking of what you would do if you could do absolutely _anything_. What interests do you have? What skills? And what languages do you speak? Maybe try to learn one or two more, to broaden your options.”  
The music stopped, so Albus finished in a rush:  
“Owl me. I _will_ find you someone who will help you leave Prague. Not for marriage, but because they know that having ‘discovered’ you will prove to be an asset to them. Think about it.”

Bozena looked a bit stunned. She almost forgot to curtsey to Albus before wandering off, atypically lost for words. Albus, for his part, returned to Lady Maritrea, as promised. He had danced Wolf’s requisite five dances, and he was looking forward to talking to one more person who might possibly have more on her mind than arranging his marriage.

After about fifteen minutes, an older couple came to speak with Lady Maritrea. Albus stayed for a polite interval before taking his leave. He was heading towards the heated terrace when Wolf approached him.  
“Mr. Dumbledore. I believe you have not yet had the pleasure of meeting Heir Grindelwald?”  
Albus turned. Next to Wolf stood a boy who looked like he had not yet reached his full height. His hair was the same colour as Gellert’s, but cut short. His eyes were dark brown, and his face was not quite so long as Gellert’s – rounder. But his nose and eyebrows and lips were all the same. There would have been no mistaking that they were brothers.

Gellert’s brother rolled his eyes, “Thank you for that very correct introduction, Wolf.”  
Interesting. His facial expressions were the same, too.  
He turned to Albus. “But I would prefer it if you would call me Otto. Besides, I would never hear the end of it from Gellert if he were to hear you calling me ‘Heir Grindelwald.’ Uppity bullshit, he’d probably say.”  
Albus laughed. “Oh, I like you already. Call me Albus.”  
Otto turned to Wolf. “You are a dear friend, but you have done your duty, and I would speak with Albus alone, please.”  
Wolf mussed Otto’s hair, and teased, “Aren’t you an imperious lamb!” before leaving. 

“Well,” said Otto indignantly, watching Wolf walk away. “That was just insulting. He is only two years older than me, but he acts as if I were five rather than fifteen.”  
Closer to three years, Albus thought, but that was still no reason to treat Otto like a small child.  
Otto gestured to his head. “Would you? I can’t see what he’s done to it.”  
Albus nodded. “My pleasure.” He pulled out his wand, and returned Otto’s hair to the perfect state it had been in minutes before. 

Albus took note of Otto’s clothing – the entire ensemble was in shades of grey. The only hint of colour was the burgundy piping edging his robe.  
“You know,” said Albus, “Your brother once gave me a very hard time for wearing all grey to a luncheon.”  
Otto shook his head. “Yes, Gellert thinks that everyone looks better in bright colours. But how is a peacock to be found in a flock of peacocks?”  
“In English, we would call a group of peacocks an ‘ostentation’.”  
Otto laughed delightedly. “Oh, even better.”

“Perhaps Gellert is confident that he would continue to stand out even in an ostentation of similarly dressed men – if it were not for his bright colours, then it would be something else.”  
“Hmm,” considered Otto, “That is true. My brother is –“ He drifted off with a wistful smile.  
“You miss him.”  
“Of course. Who wouldn’t?”  
‘Your parents,’ thought Albus. But it would be rude to say so, and would help no one. 

“Have you seen him yet tonight?”  
“From a distance.” Otto sounded frustrated. “I have told my – father-in-law – that it will displease my father if Gellert and I are not allowed to speak – that it will cause the very kind of talk Father hoped to avoid when he liberated Gellert instead of disowning him. But so far I have been intercepted every time I try to get near him, and it serves no one’s interests for me to make a scene.”  
“Can you get away late tonight?”  
“That won’t be possible. I was put in a family suite with Lina’s parents.” Oh. Albus had heard about these Pureblood ‘family suites.’ The only way out to the hall was through the parents’ room. Chaperoned indeed.

Albus struggled with himself. He knew Gellert wouldn’t want him to get his little brother in trouble – but he also knew that Gellert would be devastated if he didn’t get to spend time with his brother at all. No, Otto was old enough to make his own choices.  
“Ok, listen. I have some polyjuice here. You can be Wolf for an hour. I – have some of his hair.”  
_Stole_ some of his hair, but no need to be pedantic. Albus had intended to use it himself to go see Gellert at some point that evening, but he could wait until he and Gellert were back in the room together. This might be Gellert’s one chance to see his brother.  
Otto’s eyes grew large in astonishment, and his smile was one of adoration. “How delightfully criminal! No wonder Gellert chose you as his travelling companion.”

“Yes, I do suppose we have a similar – disregard for foolish rules... and – now I have some of _your_ hair.”  
Otto looked at him warily.  
“I removed a couple of strands off your robe – but I promise not to use them without your permission.”  
“You mean summoned! Wandless magic! You have –“  
Thank the gods he knew to whisper.

“For all the stars. Otto, I am trusting you to never tell anyone.”  
Otto rolled his eyes. “Of course not, you idiot.”  
He looked and sounded so much like Gellert in that moment, Albus had to laugh. He hoped that one day he and Otto and Gellert would all be able to speak together without interference. 

“I can find Wolf and convince him to trade – to be you for an hour... Oh, bugger. The clothes.”  
Otto smiled indulgently. “You honestly think I could live with Gellert all my life and not know how to transfigure clothing? I’ll be fine. You worry about Wolf.”  
Albus nodded. Indeed, he was worried about Wolf, and not just because of the clothing. But that was his problem – not Otto’s.

“Good. Now, you will only have an hour to make your way to Gellert, speak with him, and get out. Overstay, and you will have that scene you were trying to avoid, so best to aim for, say, 45 minutes – in case you get waylaid.”  
Otto waved his hand, “Yes, yes.”  
“So you want to risk it?”  
Otto nodded. “Thank you, Albus – I haven’t spoken to Gellert in nearly a year, and – thank you.”  
Then a mischievous grin appeared on Otto’s face. “Oh, Wolf. You dear imperious lamb.”  
Albus laughed. It seemed Otto might also be planning to get a bit of revenge.

Albus spelled the polyjuice, together with the strands of Wolf’s hair, into Otto’s vest pocket. This would have been so much easier if he could have communicated to Gellert the need to glamour himself as someone else.  
No, on second thought that wouldn’t have worked after all – Gellert was such a presence, his sudden absence would surely be noticed.  
Albus wondered if Gellert had realized that Otto was being kept from him, or if he was still anticipating seeing his brother later that evening. The more Albus thought about it, the more he became convinced that he was doing the right thing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Albus caught determined movement. “There is someone approaching.”  
“Oh – my future father-in-law – I am being retrieved, it appears. Someone must have told him that you are one of my brother’s associates.”  
That, or that Albus was an insignificant Halfblood. How he missed Paris, where his blood status mattered less.  
“That’s ok – we can make it work for us. Tell him you need to use the restroom. In about five minutes, I will come distract him so that he doesn’t notice the switch. Put the hair in the potion right before you drink it. It will taste terrible – drink it all, or you won’t have as much time as you need.”

“Thank you, Albus. And I apologise. I had hoped to speak to you more, but –“  
“It appears that would not have been allowed in any case.”  
Otto turned and walked in the direction of the gentleman who had been coming for him, sparing Albus that awkward introduction.  
It was just as well. He had a plan to put in motion.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus did not go to breakfast that morning. He did not want eggs or sausages or pastries. He wanted to tear apart some rabbits. So he ran through the forest as a lynx, chasing prey and devouring it. It was – cathartic. Before transforming back, he rolled in the snow to wash off the blood.

Gellert was still not up when he returned, so he set a glass of water on Gellert’s bedside table, and began reading a Viennese Muggle newspaper (or at least he was doing his best to muddle through it) while waiting for Gellert to wake. 

Albus was sitting in a chair by the window, alternating between reading and fuming, when he heard the blanket-muffled groan: “Allll – buuuuuus?”  
Infuriating. All the man had to do was say his name, and he started to melt. Adorable or not, Albus was not going to back down.  
“Not going to back down,” he repeated out loud to himself in a whisper, to steel himself.

He stood. “Over here, Gellert.”  
“I feel awwwww-ful.”  
“Well, I understand that you drank your weight in vodka, so I’m not surprised.”  
“There was vodka? I don’t – I don’t remember anything about that.”  
“Not remembering doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” said Albus sternly. 

Gellert appeared to be trying to wrestle his way out of the blankets now. Why couldn’t he move slowly, like a normal hungover person? Instead he was clumsy, uncoordinated, as if he were still drunk.  
Oh. He might be.  
Albus sighed and untangled the blankets with his magic.  
“Thank you,” sighed Gellert in relief.  
Then Albus zapped him with an electric shock to his thigh.  
“Ouch! What was that for?” 

“You, sir, were – excessively tactile last night.”  
“You like excessive.”  
“Not last night, I didn’t. You woke me up at 3am. Which I hate, as you know.”  
“How could I know that you hate being woken at 3am when I have never managed to wake you at 3am?”  
Infuriating.  
“Well, you managed just fine last night. Then, once I was awake, you were persistent, sloppy, careless, and frenzied. And you did not notice at all when I tried to dodge your kisses.”  
“Oh, Albus.” Gellert sat up, rubbed his head, and then fell back down with a moan. “I’m an arse.”  
“I’m afraid so. But it seems you’re my arse, so – ”

Albus got into bed, and sat against the headboard. He pulled Gellert’s head into his lap and started combing through Gellert’s hair with his fingers.  
“You don’t remember any of it?”  
“I don’t remember coming up to our room. I don’t even remember who I was supposedly drinking vodka with.”  
“Well, that’s no good. No telling what you said.”

“Good thing I don’t have any secrets then,” Gellert said happily, pushing himself up and climbing onto Albus.  
“Don’t have any –“ He was momentarily speechless in disbelief. “Gellert. You are in bed with one of your biggest secrets right now.”  
“Gods! Right! I do have secrets!” Then he winked.  
Gellert had been baiting him. Of course. 

Albus pushed him off. “Be serious, Gellert!”  
“Mmm – yes. Thank you for the reminder that I have serious secrets. Such as my seriously gorgeous husband.”  
Albus narrowed his eyes at Gellert.  
Gellert sighed. “I do understand your concern, Liebling. I’m sure it was fine, but I don’t like not knowing who I was with.”  
“I might be able to find it in here,” Albus said, touching Gellert’s forehead. “We’ll see. I haven’t tried to recover lost or suppressed memories before, but – “

But Gellert seemed to just now be properly registering how the conversation had begun. He sat back up and laid his head on Albus’ shoulder.  
“Albus – I’m so sorry. For coming in so late, and for not noticing –“ He sat upright suddenly. “Merlin! Albus, did I stop – did you have to ask me to stop?”  
“I did. But you did. So we’re good. It was a bit annoying that I had to, but – I can still attest that you have always stopped when I have asked you to.”  
“Thank all the gods.” Gellert relaxed, and returned his head to Albus’ shoulder. “I’m so sorry. So so sorry.”  
“I know. You were sorry last night too. And very cute.”  
“Cute?!”  
Gellert hated being called ‘cute’, and Albus knew it.

“Yes, cute. In addition to being profusely sorry, you went on at great length about how much you loved me, and how much you had missed me at the ball, and how clever I was to figure out a way to get you and Otto together, and how annoying Wolf was, saying we couldn’t look at each other. You sang a very silly song about how much you love my cock. You begged me to take all of my clothes off, and I said that you weren’t coordinated enough at the moment for either of us to benefit from that. So you asked if we could at least have sex first thing in the morning, and I said no, you were going to be too hungover. You grumbled that you hated it when I was right, and then you threw one leg over me and started snoring nearly instantly.”  
It occurred to Albus that he was giving the wrong impression. “Not that being adorably lovestruck at all makes up for you being so persistent in your unwanted advances. I’m glad that you stopped when I asked you to, but I should not have had to. Usually you would have noticed that I was not reciprocating.”

“No, you are right. I’m very sorry about that. I will try to make it up to you,” he said, taking one of Albus’ hands between both of his own.  
Albus rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to – no, that is – you _can’t_ make it up to me, Gellert. That’s not how this works. I accept your apology, we move on, and you try to pay better attention from now on.”  
“Right, yes. Ok. I love you.”  
Albus lifted one of Gellert’s hands and kissed it.  
“I know. Me too. Now – drink your water, wash up, and get dressed. I want to hear all about the Elder Wand.”

Gellert startled. “What?!”  
“The first thing you said to me when you came in the room – before leaping on me and trying to plant slobbery vodka-soaked kisses all over me – the first thing you said was, ‘We have to go get the Elder Wand.’ And I want to know why.”

“Why we need the Elder Wand? I would think that would be obvious.”  
“No – why last night. Although why you want the Elder Wand is also a good question. There are entirely too many reasons a Wizard might want it. In any case, it was on your mind last night, so we should discuss it this morning. _After_ your bath. The alcohol came out of all of your pores in the night. You don’t smell like my Gellert – you smell like a distillery. I’ll have some food and coffee brought up for you while you bathe.” 

Gellert fixed Albus with a look of exaggerated seductiveness. “ _Your Gellert_ is entirely at your disposal. Perhaps you would consider...”  
“Gellert. This is not some needlessly complicated build up to getting you more naked than you already are. This is me asking you to clean up. Please.”

Gellert huffed and scowled. “Fine.”  
Albus might have felt a bit badly – felt that he was being too hard on Gellert – if Gellert had not then gotten out of bed, removed his pants with exaggerated slowness, and sashayed towards the bathroom. Just as he reached the door, he stopped to look over his shoulder with the invitation, “Last chance, Liebhaber.”  
What a performance!  
Albus laughed. “It is certainly not my ‘last chance!’ I could walk in there five minutes from now, and you’d pull me into the tub eagerly.”

Gellert’s expression suddenly became adorably hopeful. “So I can expect you...?”  
Albus was tempted. He really was. But –  
“Sorry, Love. Sober or not at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had not intended for the guys to have such a busy 48+ hours, but... starting with the second half of the chapter before this one, I couldn’t pare the events of the weekend down past 20,000 words. So for the sanity of us all, I split it up:  
> Chapter 15 ½ - Friday afternoon  
> Chapter 16 – Saturday afternoon and evening; Sunday morning  
> Chapter 17 – Still Sunday morning  
> Chapter 18 – Sunday afternoon and evening
> 
> It was an eventful weekend, clearly.


	19. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is proven that Wolf’s estimation of just how ok Gellert would be was a bit - optimistic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: there is a reference to past underage sex in this one

Chapter 17  
February 1900, continued

Gellert came in from the bathroom, not in a dressing gown, not in fresh clothes, but bare-chested, a towel wrapped around him slung low on his hips.  
“Oh,” breathed Albus, “You are not playing fair. At all.”  
Gellert kissed him. “When have I played fair, Liebhaber?”  
Never. It occurred to Albus that maybe that should bother him, but instead it just made him need Gellert desperately.

Albus attacked Gellert with his mouth. He ran his hands down Gellert’s still damp back, grabbed hold of his towel-covered arse, and pulled Gellert tightly against him.  
And then Albus’ clothes disappeared. He broke the kiss, gasping. “I’ve noticed – you – you’ve been practicing.”  
“So – what do you think? If my control over my magic is that good, I must be sober enough to fuck, right?”

Albus laughed. “Only a drunk man tries to prove he is not drunk.”  
“No,” Gellert said, and sucked on Albus’ neck.  
“A drunk man,” lick,  
“or,” suck,  
“a man,” gentle nibble,  
“whose husband is making him,” another lick,  
“wait endlessly,” nuzzle,  
“for sex.” Gellert ended by sucking Albus’ earlobe into his mouth.  
“Aaaah? Ooooo-kaaaay....”

Albus whipped off Gellert’s towel and placed a hand on Gellert’s chest, pushing him just far enough away to get a good look at him. Gods, what a gorgeous man. His gorgeous man.  
“You. Bed. Now.” Albus commanded. Then, after a second thought, he appended, “Bitte?”  
“Well,” said Gellert with a wicked smile, “Since you asked so nicely...”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus could tell that Gellert was sated, because even though he was on top of Albus, he wasn’t trying to entice him into another round, but was lazily dropping light kisses on Albus’ face and neck and shoulders, and murmuring ‘I love you’ repeatedly.  
Relaxed Gellert was one of his favourite Gellerts. Right up there with Fresh from the Tub Gellert. Come to think of it, every Gellert was his favourite Gellert, aside from Flirting with Someone Else Gellert, and now, it seemed, Drunk Gellert.

Right! Drunk Gellert! He had been in such a sex-addled daze...  
“Love? Gellert?”  
Gellert dropped a quick kiss on Albus’ lips, and then got off of him.  
Albus looked at him quizzically. How had Gellert known that he was wanting –  
“You are thinking about something, I can tell.”  
“Did you just –“

Gellert held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  
“No, your tone of voice was enough, Schatz. It was your ‘back to business’ voice, your ‘that’s enough kissing – now we have serious things to do’ voice.”  
Albus laughed. “Wouldn’t you say that _sex_ is a serious thing?”  
Gellert poked Albus in the ribs. “Whatever _I_ might say, _you_ have managed to get me to stop kissing you – maybe now you should tell me whatever it is.” And he flopped down onto his pillow. Sweet boneless post-orgasmic Gellert. Maybe he should just let him sleep?

Albus sat up and looked down at Gellert, now laying on his back on the bed, sweaty everywhere – impossibly tempting. Perhaps he should put off talking yet longer, so that he could lick the sweat off of Gellert. He closed his eyes and shook his head, as if to shake off the desire to taste the salt on his husband’s skin. Would it be such a terrible idea? Really? It wouldn’t take so long...  
Having his eyes closed was not helping.  
Albus opened his eyes again and looked at Gellert who was looking up at him, a small sleepy smile on his face, clearly well aware of the effect he was having on Albus.  
What Albus needed was to reduce the intensity of this distraction. He cast some cleansing charms, and then spelled his clothing and Gellert’s clothing onto them.

Gellert looked somehow amused and disappointed at the same time. “Too bad. I thought you were going to break. Masterful display of willpower, Liebling.”  
“Yes, well. It was necessary. We’re going to have to stay in bed for this – I need you to be relaxed and comfortable, so I thought this would be the perfect time – unless you are too tired?”  
This perked Gellert up. He propped himself up on his elbows. “The memory retrieval?”  
“ _Attempted_ memory retrieval, yes. Since I’ve never done it before I can’t say that it will be successful... Listen, Gellert, we don’t have to do this.”  
“What? Why not? I can’t imagine you would do anything that might hurt me, or change me, so – why not learn something new?”

“Well... because I am not looking at what is on the surface, or what you have pushed forward for me to see, or something trivial or easy to find. I know that what I’m looking for just happened last night, but it is clouded, buried – so it will be hidden beneath other memories – perhaps even unrelated memories.  
“I’m going to try to only find what is relevant, but – again, I’ve never done this before. What if I...?” 

A way out occurred to Albus.  
“Is there anything you can tell me about who you might have spoken to about the Elder Wand? Was it a friend or a stranger? Do you remember _anything_ about who you were drinking with last night, or what you talked about?”  
“I thought about it in the tub... I remember that the Wand is in Königsberg. And – that’s all.”

“How do you know the Wand is in Königsberg?”  
“I remembered coming up the stairs, saying to myself, ‘Albus and I will have to go next to Königsberg.’ And I remembered thinking that they are famous for their marzipan, and maybe if I told you so, you’d agree to come.”  
Gellert was looking entirely too pleased with himself.  
“You thought _marzipan_ was going to be a bigger lure to me than the Elder Wand? That’s not insulting at all.”  
Gellert laughed. “No, Liebling. I was just – see, already you are learning my secrets without looking in my head. No. I am not always so spontaneous with my teasing – sometimes I actually rehearse it ahead of time.”

Albus smiled. “I love you more every day, you sweet idiot.”  
Then he got more serious. “But this is just not enough information, Love.”  
“I suppose we could just ask Wolf?”  
“Was Wolf there?”  
Gellert was quiet for a long time. 

“No. No, Wolf left just after 1am. And I hadn’t started in on the vodka yet at that point. How do you know it was vodka?”  
“You told me, Love. ‘Tooooo Muuuuch Voooodkaaaa’ to be precise.”  
Gellert sighed. “Right, so. We have almost two hours unaccounted for, and Wolf wasn’t there, and Bozena wasn’t there, and my brother wasn’t there... and I saw you leave at 12:30, almost exactly. Which runs us through the entire list of people who were there that you would trust to tell us.”  
Albus decided to not follow up on the possible meanings of that interesting phrasing: ‘that _you_ would trust...’ 

“I’m sorry I left so early, Gellert. I was having a terrible time.”  
“It wouldn’t have made a difference if you were there, since we were forbidden from speaking to one another,” Gellert complained, rolling his eyes.  
“Yes, well. I agree that Wolf was overreacting, but it was his family’s ball – it was best to do as he asked - he’s a good friend to you.”  
By which Albus meant – ‘we don’t want to antagonize someone who has done so much for us, and has the potential to do so much more.’

“I’m sorry you waited so long for me to come to you, Liebling. I should have left when Wolf did, clearly.”  
“Hush, Gellert – there’s nothing to be sorry about. Yet.”  
“That’s right. ‘Yet.’ We still need to know more about what happened during the two hours I’ve lost.”  
Albus balked. He wished he had never suggested using Legilimency on Gellert. “There must be some other way –“  
“What other way? No, Albus – we’ve already established that no one close to us was there. Stop trying to talk me out of it.”

“I’m sorry, Gellert. You’re right. I just don’t want you to feel I’m pressuring you.”  
Gellert laughed. “Don’t worry. If anything, I feel pressured to say no.”  
“You’re right, it’s just that it is going to be a tremendous invasion of your privacy. I might – Gellert, I might come upon things that you have chosen not to share with me yet. Or things that you have shared only in part. I would be getting your senses, your impressions, your emotions – _everything_ that you recorded about anything I see. I might see some of your visions. I might see – I might see anything.”

“I _know_ , Love. I know what it means to take every barrier down, to give you permission to go wherever you think you need to go. It’s ok. I trust you, Albus. Always. All that remains is for you to trust yourself.”

‘Please,’ Albus thought, ‘Whatever god is listening, please let me be worthy of that trust.’

“Lay back,” Albus instructed. Gellert dropped his head back down on the pillow.  
Albus straddled him.  
“Oh – is this an essential part of the procedure?” asked Gellert with a badly suppressed smile.  
“Mmmhmm,” said Albus, and he bent down and kissed Gellert. “I love you. No matter what. Never doubt that. Not ever.”

Then Albus, with his face hovering about 18 inches above Gellert, said gently, “Look at me, Love.”  
Gellert closed his eyes and looked away. After a few breaths, he looked back at Albus.  
“Ready.”  
Their eyes met, and Albus slipped into Gellert’s mind. 

The way Gellert’s mind was organized reminded Albus of a vast forest. There were one or two cart paths, several well trodden foot paths, some overgrown paths, barely discernable... but the majority of the forest was less well travelled wilderness, filled with elusive animals, and... animals! Would it be possible to transform in here? Perhaps Albus could find the memories he needed by tracking them, and his sense of smell in his lynx form would be far superior...  
He transformed and followed the scent of alcohol into the forest.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus broke eye contact and dropped suddenly onto Gellert’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. He clung to Gellert tightly, silently.  
“Albus? Albus, Liebling.”  
Albus didn’t answer.

“Albus Dumbledore,” Gellert said hesitantly. “You are scaring me, and I know you don’t want to scare me, right?”  
Albus took a deep breath and let it out. “Right,” he said in a small voice.  
He propped himself up on his elbows, taking a bit of his weight off of Gellert. He studied Gellert’s face, as if he were something precious and fragile that Albus might have carelessly broken. “Are you ok?”  
“I am – confused. I don’t know what you saw. I didn’t even feel you in there. You are very good at this – I should have felt something, as deep as you were trying to go – unless – unless you didn’t get below the surface after all?”  
“No, I did. I think – I think perhaps it went so well because you were helping – because your magic didn’t fight mine.”

“Oh! That’s brilliant!” Gellert lifted up his head far enough to kiss Albus. “How amazing! You saw everything? The things that I lost?” He kissed Albus again.  
“Albus, for me, nothing happened other than you looking in my eyes for a really long time without blinking. I mean, I blinked, I’m sure. But it didn’t look like you did. It hardly seems possible that I felt nothing.”  
“How long?”  
“Four minutes.”

Four minutes. Albus knew that was long for Legilimency, but given everything that he had uncovered, and how long it had taken him to do it...  
“For you it was four minutes. For me it was closer to four hours. Maybe more.”  
And it would have taken him far longer as a human rather than a lynx. He was sure of it. But that seemed like – extraneous information at the moment.

“Oh, Albus! Are you - four hours!”  
Albus barely registered that Gellert had spoken.  
“I saw so much.” Too much. “I know things –“ Too many things. “I’m so sorry Gellert.” So very sorry. “I shouldn’t have –“ Shouldn’t have suggested it, shouldn’t have looked, shouldn’t have kept looking...

Albus centered himself and started over. “Never mind. The important thing is that everything is fine. I saw that you did every bit as beautifully as you do sober, just as you assured me we would find. So I think maybe we should just take a nap? You started off tired, and I – ”  
“Albus. I do trust your judgment. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to know what is in my own head – or what image of me other people are carrying with them after last night, or who I was with. And there’s the matter of the Elder Wand, also. But if you need to lay down while you tell me...”

“Ok. Ok, I’m going to need, umm...”  
Albus pulled away from Gellert, and moved to sit with his back against the footboard. Gellert sat up with his back against the headboard. It was a familiar way of sitting when Albus needed the reassurance that the conversation was not going to get derailed by snogging.  
Then Gellert pressed the side of his leg against Albus’ leg.  
“Is this ok, Liebling? I – need to be touching you somehow.” He looked anxious, wary.  
Albus smiled with only half of his mouth, and looked down at their legs, side by side.  
“I – Albus, I don’t have to...”  
“No, I’m sorry. It’s good. It is good to be – anchored to you. I love you. I love you so much.”  
“You’re scaring me again, Albus. Maybe you could just tell me?”

Albus took a deep breath He could do this.  
“Misha was – one of the people you were drinking with last night.”  
“Which Misha? ... Oh. Fuck.”  
“Mercifully not,” Albus said in a flat voice. Gallows humour – the last refuge of the damned.  
Gellert looked down at his now clenched fist and let out a whispered, “Gods...”  
“Yeah – I – felt it was important to know whether you knew each person and how...”  
“Albus, you could have asked me –“  
“Yes, well. That would have been better, obviously. It is a shame it didn’t occur to me.”

They were silent for a while. Seeing his husband giving a blowjob to someone else – seeing him _enjoy_ giving a blowjob to someone else – it didn’t really matter how long ago it was – it had been immediate for Albus. Memories were always accessed in present tense.  
“It was – just the one time –“  
“I am aware. I am also aware of how he treated you afterwards.”  
And aware of how much that had hurt Gellert’s feelings. 

“And I am aware that you didn’t much have a choice about drinking with him last night – or at least that avoiding him would have meant avoiding Karl and Tiberius.”  
“So it was Misha and Tiberius and Karl? And no one else?”  
“No one else. Mostly. Velek drifted in and out a bit. Mostly out.”  
“That makes sense. I would never have spoken to Misha alone. You know that, right?”  
Yes. It could not have been more obvious. Even if it hadn’t been for his respect for Albus, the feelings of shame and rejection that were still so close to the surface would have been reason enough for Gellert to avoid Misha. Being unable to do so, Misha was the whole reason that Gellert had consumed such an appalling amount of vodka. 

“I know Gellert. Just the one time, he’s a complete arse, you didn’t choose to drink with him... I know. But –”  
‘But let’s move on,’ Albus wanted to say. ‘But none of this is important.’ ‘But we can talk about this later...’ 

But – he couldn’t think of what to say – he couldn’t make himself say anything, and in the meantime, Gellert filled the silence.  
“How – umm – I’m sorry if this doesn’t seem relevant, but I need to know... In your time, how long ago did you see all this? Was it right before you came back out, or –“  
“It was about two hours ago. But two hours is still not all that long ago.”  
“No, I know.”  
‘He knows.’  
“Gellert, please stop. Let’s move on. There is nothing that you can say or do to make this feel better for me right now.”  
No, in fact, he was making it worse.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I mean, I imagine... Albus, you know that you are –“  
He. Imagined.  
Gellert would _never_ know what it was like for Albus to see that. There was nothing like that in Albus for him to see. Albus didn’t blame Gellert for that. But –  
Gellert having the nerve to suggest he could empathize with a situation he would _never_ encounter pushed Albus to the breaking point.  
“I am not sure what you think you can _imagine_ , Gellert, but perhaps I should help your imagination along. You are the only man I have ever so much as kissed, but I found myself tasting Misha with you. I know what his cock looks like, I know what his come tastes like...”  
Albus had also felt all of Gellert’s hope and adoration in that moment, but even after everything else he had just shared, he could not bring himself to say that. Gellert might feel more strongly about Albus than he had for anyone else, but that didn’t mean he had felt _nothing_ for anyone before, and that was – something Albus needed not to think about right now. Even more than he needed not to think about his husband getting another man off.  
“I experienced all of that having already seen that he was a smug insect who would attempt to tear you down at any opportunity, even two years later.”

It seemed that Gellert’s question of ‘when’ was pertinent after all. If that had been the last thing Albus had experienced before coming back, he probably would have thrown up on Gellert the moment he returned. 

Gellert drew up his legs and laid his head on his knees.  
“Fuck fuck fuck!!” He started shaking.  
Fuck. ‘What have I done?’ Albus asked himself. He had meant to get his emotions under control before talking with Gellert about what it had been like to participate in Gellert’s experience with Misha – if he ever talked to him about it. Albus would likely never get that image of Gellert going down on Misha (and the ugly aftermath) out of his head, but that seemed only fair – after all, Gellert would never get it out of his head, either. 

Albus wanted to go to him, to touch him, but – would Gellert want to be held right now? He wasn’t sure.  
Albus wanted to reassure Gellert that everything was ok. Of course, it wasn’t ok – but it _would be_ ok. Albus knew that it would – eventually. And he was likely to recover from this more quickly than Gellert would.  
Gellert had been living with this all along, alone without any comfort or support. It would always be part of him: how it had felt receiving Misha’s attention, what he had thought it had meant, how quickly he had been rejected, the shame of feeling like he had missed something obvious – that he had been stupid. And then his grief over the encounter after being with Albus and realizing what love was meant to look like – what it felt like for that physical need to be combined with tenderness and respect. Grieving all over again, having to face exactly how cruel Misha had been.

Albus crawled towards Gellert slowly, like one might approach a wounded animal.  
“Gellert. Love. Listen. You’re mine now – I know that you are. Shh... It was – you don’t have to carry it alone anymore, Love.”  
Gellert looked up at Albus. “What? No! You are supposed to be angry at me – “  
Albus felt ashamed. Gellert should not even be thinking that – would not be thinking that if Albus hadn’t lashed out at him just now.  
“Why are _you_ comforting _me_? You shouldn’t be comforting me – I should be comforting you! And here I am selfishly...”

Albus snuggled up against Gellert and put an arm around him. With his other hand, he found one of Gellert’s hands and held it, stroking his palm with his thumb.  
“We can comfort each other, right? And anyway, you were as honest with me about it as you needed to be – it isn’t your fault I know some of the details now. You trusted me. Let me hold you – let me hold your hurt, and prove myself worthy of that trust.”  
Gellert raised his head a little to say, “You are too good to me, Love.” Then he set his forehead back on his knees.  
“I am not nearly as good to you as I wish I could be, Gellert. I didn’t need to tell you what I had seen. I was hurt, and I wanted you to hurt with me, but you are already hurting with this, aren’t you? It took far too long for that to occur to me. Forgive me?”  
Gellert lifted up his head and turned to look at Albus.

“No. That is going to far, Albus. There is nothing to forgive. I am the one –“  
“Who had sex with someone else before you even met me? Before you even knew you would meet me? I know I’ve had some problems with jealousy –“ Gellert snorted.  
“But _I love you_ , and I do hope that not everyone you... umm... that not every partner was as cruel to you as Misha.”  
“There were only two others. That is... I... Misha was – the worst.”

Gellert _thought_ there were only two. Albus didn’t know for sure there were others, but there could have been – given his glimpses of Gellert’s drinking at Durmstrang, he doubted very much that this was the only time that Gellert had lost his memory of the night before.  
“No wonder you were drinking so much, then.”

“Albus – I’m glad you told me.”  
Albus looked skeptically at Gellert.  
“I _am_ glad, Albus. I don’t like for us to have secrets.”  
Albus was not sure if that statement was pointed or not – how many secrets did Gellert suspect him of carrying?

“Well, anyway, none of this is important to the questions we were looking to answer. Right now, the important thing is that it seems that you mostly didn’t say anything too incriminating. I suppose the most important things to know are that you talked about the Statute of Secrecy with much more vehemence than you usually do at these functions, but that was nothing new for them – they’d heard as much at school.  
“You talked about our travels, mentioning me little, but not so little as to seem like you were hiding something.  
“Misha baited you about being Liberated, saying that he knew you preferred men, but that he hadn’t realized that it was to the point of you being unable to impregnate a woman. But you responded well – you fixed him with a stern look, and quietly asked him what he knew about what you prefer - and how many other wizard's preferences he had insight into. Which shut him down pretty effectively. That was well done.”  
“Well, I know that he has told no one about – oh. You know that too, probably.”

Albus noted that Gellert hadn’t acknowledged the compliment – but Albus thought that it was well deserved. Sober, Gellert could mask his emotions, and quickly and cleverly turn a person’s insults against them, but to be able to do so when that inebriated – it was an impressive display, and it put him at an advantage over Misha – a lasting advantage. The subtle allusion to their encounter – in front of others who would know exactly what Gellert was implying – carried the threat that perhaps Gellert would choose to be less subtle next time, and perhaps in front of a less sympathetic audience.

Albus leaned his head against Gellert’s. “Maybe not. We won’t know unless you tell me.”  
“Misha was older than me. He – that was – it doesn’t matter. The point is, he is married now, and probably still seeing men on the side and discarding them. And if that came out – he’d lose a great deal more in political influence than he’d gain in satisfaction over humiliating me for that one time.”  
Ah, good. He did know what he had accomplished. Or, it seemed he might.

“It was wrong, how he treated you, Angel. I’m sorry. I don’t think he will bother you again, after threatening him in front of his friends.”  
Albus would not name Tiberius and Karl friends of Gellert's. They had seemed amused by Misha’s crude words to Gellert – but appalled by Gellert’s willingness to merely insinuate that Misha had every bit as much to hide as Gellert, and perhaps more. There were apparently certain – implicit allowances – made for liberated heirs, so long as they were discrete. But married scions of noble families? Wizarding Europe would have no mercy for Misha if his dalliances with men were merely hinted at to the wrong person. Karl in particular seemed to make no allowance for the fact that Gellert would have had nothing to say about Misha’s hypocrisy if Misha himself had not brought the topic up in a foolhardy bid to attack Gellert. No, they were no friends of Gellert’s, and Albus felt justified in adding them to his list of worse than useless people.

“Other than that, the conversation seemed like the usual Pureblood social positioning. Talking about which families were represented at the Ball and which were not, discussing Velek’s crups, and the renovations being made to Karl’s parent’s chalet, and what had been served at the Gheata’s last dinner party, and so on. I’m sure that there are nuances that I missed, but as far as I could tell, you won the contest, as always.”

Gellert looked down at his hands, perhaps gathering himself? Albus waited.  
“So the conversation with them was clean. What did you learn about the Elder Wand?”

“Well – luckily it was during that same conversation that the Elder Wand came up.”  
“Why ‘luckily’? Because you didn’t have to spend even more time searching?”  
“Well, yes, I suppose, but I wasn’t even thinking about that. No, it was lucky because if it hadn’t come up when you were drunk, then there would be no reason for you to have forgotten it. It would have meant that you had been Confunded or even partially Obliviated. Which would likely make the memories impossible to access – perhaps not even there to access at all.  
“And that would mean that we wouldn’t have any information – about what was said, about who said it, about how reliable the information might be...”  
And it would also mean that Gellert had a formidable enemy, one that could take him unawares as Albus had been taken unawares in Zagreb, and that possibility had terrified Albus.

“But – it could have been someone that I conversed with after I was drinking with them.”  
“No, you came straight back to the room. You were drinking with them – maybe an hour and a half? It is hard to tell – the alcohol, together with the company, would likely have made your sense of time – unreliable.”  
Gellert groaned. “Don’t tell me I got that drunk in an hour and a half. That’s humiliating.”  
Albus laughed. “Do not be under the impression that you are a lightweight, Dear.” Though it would be totally appropriate to his age and size, by Albus’ reckoning. But Gellert would find it embarrassing for him to say so.  
“You had a truly staggering amount of alcohol in that time. You had so much vodka that I am surprised you didn’t go into some sort of coma. That you made it up the stairs and into the correct room is something of a miracle, really. Your tolerance is – I don’t understand it, truly... I wish you didn’t have so much practice drinking like this. That there hadn’t been so many reasons to forget. I hate that this was not your first time losing part of an evening, Love.  
“Gellert – I wish I had been there. I wish you hadn’t felt you needed to drink that much. I wish that you had not been trapped with Misha without knowing any other way to make the encounter bearable.”

Gellert looked away. “You know entirely too much about me now.”  
“No,” said Albus. “Come back to me, Love.”  
Gellert turned to face Albus.  
“Knees down.”  
Gellert looked at Albus warily.  
“Come on. Please?”  
Gellert stretched his legs out in front of him, and Albus came over and straddled him. He looked Gellert in his eyes for a few breaths, and then leaned in to kiss him. 

“There is nothing I saw that did not make me love you more.”  
“Even –“  
“ _Nothing_ , Gellert. Nothing.” Albus kissed Gellert again, gently.  
He laid his hand on Gellert’s shoulder and said, “Though your opinions on dinner party menus did nearly tip the scale.”  
“Ha ha. Are you going to tell me about the Wand or not?”  
There he was. Gellert was back. 

“You have your husband on your lap, and you are asking about the Elder Wand? You wound me!”  
“Albus –“  
Gellert pulled Albus closer and kissed him deeply. When they broke away, Gellert said, “I am not satisfied to do this for just a hundred, two hundred years. I would do this forever. I cannot be without you. Not ever.”  
Albus was silent. It was as he feared. Gellert was chasing immortality. And whatever he said about his love for Albus being the motivation, he didn’t believe that was all there was to it. He and Gellert had known each other for less than a year. It seemed likely that Gellert had been intending to pursue the Hallows before he ever came to Godric’s Hollow.  
Gellert was mad. Not that it would do to tell him so.

“You mean to collect the Hallows. How long – ”  
“Oh – since I was a child, really, but – meeting you gave it a new urgency. I can’t lose you.”  
“Gellert – the Hallows – the Cloak is alright, but the Stone and the Wand – they are dangerous! They killed their original owners. The Wand continues to kill its owners – there are stories throughout history...”  
“Every person who was killed because they had the Elder Wand – they were actually killed because they bragged about it. If I don’t tell anyone I have it, then I will be safe.”

Albus had a great many thoughts about this. To begin with, it occurred to him that the Wand might be cursed in some way – that it might compel the owner to behave in self-destructive ways, even to tell others that they had the Wand. Furthermore, this rumour that collecting the Hallows made one the Master of Death seemed a later innovation that was not part of the original story. Also, it did not seem at all clear what it meant to be ‘Master of Death.’ Did one have the power that Gellert supposed – to keep whoever you wanted immortal? Or would only the ‘Master’ be immortal? Or would the Master of Death be obligated to take on Death’s role, collecting souls and ruling over the Realm of the Dead? Even if it were possible to Master Death (which seemed unlikely to Albus – it would be easier to Master the Moon – to Master the Ocean...), there were too many possible ways for Mastering Death to be a cursed gift.  
“But Albus – you were going to tell me what they said!”  
Albus, it seemed, had been thinking long enough for Gellert to become impatient.

“Right. The only interesting piece of information there is that Tiberius said that there is a rumour that a wandmaker in Königsberg has the Elder Wand.”  
“Gregorovitch? That seems unlikely. How would he have gotten it? He is no duelist. And he doesn’t seem bloodthirsty enough to kill to get it.”

Albus wasn’t sure about the last part. The urge to kill was so deep, and so taboo – it didn’t seem one could ever tell at a distance who might be willing to kill and who would not. It was the sort of thing a man might not even know about himself before he had done it. In any case, the Wand might have some sort of compulsion on it that made people willing to kill for it who might not be willing to kill otherwise.

“Yes, that is what you said last night, too. Just the first bit – that it seemed unlikely.  
“Then Misha said that, in any case, Gregorovitch _said_ that he had it. And then you did something bloody brilliant – you said that you would not have thought that Gregorovitch was the type to have obtained the Wand, but then again (and you said this last bit in a biting tone) perhaps he was _exactly the type_. And you didn’t bother to say what you meant by that! And then later in the conversation you said something along the lines of ‘The Deathstick seems an excessively dramatic name for what is likely no more than an ordinary wand.’ And later you remarked, ‘If what you say is true, then I wonder if the Wizard wields the Wand, or the Wand wields the Wizard.’ You allowed them to carry on the conversation without appearing to listen for another five minutes or so, then re-engaged, seemingly out of nowhere, to ask Tiberius about his Abraxans.”  
Gellert laughed. “Yes, that would certainly get us off the topic for ten minutes or more!”

“So, to summarize, they didn’t know anything of consequence except for this news about Gregorovitch. The rest was rehashing old stories and rumours. You did a superb job of maintaining a mixed facade of disdain and boredom, combining to suggest that you thought pursuing the Elder Wand was a dubious and small-minded endeavour. All without outright saying so.  
“You were amazing, the way that you handled the three of them. I’m glad I got to see it.”  
“Albus, be serious.”  
“Oh, I am. You have no idea how much it turned me on seeing you take so many people apart.”

“ _So many_ people? Albus, how much more of the evening did you see than just that one conversation?”  
Albus looked sheepish. “I couldn’t resist. I didn’t get to spend any time with you at the ball, so –“  
“So you decided to attend with me after the fact. I understand. I hope you will return the favour though.”  
“Mmm. Yes, but not this instant. Right now, I think I need to reward you for championing so many people – for taking down so many bullies so decisively last night. Every time you swung your sword, you drew blood. So sexy, Love.” 

Albus had seen Gellert tear down person after person at the ball – expertly, subtly – in a way that was clear to any who saw it, but that could not be said to be gratuitously cruel. When not confronted with petty ignorance, Gellert was light-hearted, gregarious, intriguing. He laughed easily and often. But he had no patience for anyone who stood within his hearing, clumsily attacking someone who had done the speaker no injury. Gellert took this as an invitation to turn the speaker’s dull wit against themselves, so that their cruelty and cowardice were revealed – so that they were the ones left embarrassed, without a way out – so that they were hurt in a way that was greater than the injury they could have done, and yet less than the injury they had sought to do. Gellert’s quick mind and righteous indignation channeled in such an elegant way – playing by the rules in a way that broke the game – it was hot. So Very Hot. 

“You were brilliant,” Albus said, grasping Gellert’s ankles and pulling him down the bed until he was laying flat.  
“You were vicious.” Albus vanished Gellert’s clothes, then bent down and bit his shoulder.  
“You were powerful.” Albus teased one of Gellert’s nipples with his tongue, and then the other.  
“You. Should be. Rewarded.” Albus descended, licking from the base of Gellert’s cock all the way up, tonguing the slit before murmuring, “Was für ein prächtiger Schwanz.”  
Gellert groaned. “Albus...”

Albus moved with determination, taking Gellert’s cock with as much suction as possible. With one hand he pressed down on Gellert’s pubic bone at the base of his cock, and with the other he took hold of his balls. And –  
“Fuck! Albus! Slow down – please –“  
Albus took his mouth off of Gellert for a moment – “Gellert. I need to taste your come this instant!”  
Gellert gasped, “Two – instants?”  
Albus laughed. “Yes, ok Love. I’ll slow down. For now. But I’m warning you, once you have come in my mouth, I intend to fuck you hard and fast. I intend to erase every thought in your head until you can only think ‘yes’ and ‘more.’”  
Gellert moaned. “Gods – Albus – please –“

Albus made good on his promise. He slowed down and properly worshipped Gellert’s cock, while preparing his arse with his fingers. But as soon as he had swallowed Gellert’s come, Albus hopped out of bed and pulled Gellert around so that his arse was on the edge of the bed. With a determined look in his eye, he raised the bed higher.  
Albus stood there and admired his husband, running his hand down Gellert’s chest. Then he lifted Gellert’s legs so that they were against Albus’ chest, so that his feet were up past Albus’ shoulders. As he slowly pressed his cock into Gellert, he sucked on the arch of Gellert’s foot – which was perhaps sensation overkill, especially taken together with how Gellert’s cock was still twitching post-orgasm, but Albus couldn’t help it. He loved Gellert, and he loved Gellert’s body, and all of this man laid out before him was his. Mind, body, magic – everything. All his. Albus was laying his claim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More “bedroom German,” with thanks to Aiflenoif for their assistance:  
> Was für ein prächtiger Schwanz = what a glorious cock


	20. Do you trust me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that this is an Albus POV fic – which means that we only know as much about other characters as Albus perceives/interprets – and we only know as much about Albus as he understands/is willing to admit about himself. This is of course always the case, but as I reread this chapter, that question of ‘what is going on here under the surface?’ seemed especially relevant throughout.
> 
> Warning: There is a scene about midway through which could be interpreted as underage? Kind of? No actual sex occurs – the sexual content is in the mind/imagination of the underage person.

Chapter 18  
February 1900, continued

Albus and Gellert were exhausted. Gellert especially. It would have been a long morning even for someone who had not woken up still inebriated. They fell asleep without meaning to – they had intended to just hold one another for a few minutes... and they woke up well after lunch had been served.  
When Albus woke, Gellert was already awake and dressed. He had an impressive array of food under stasis, laid out on a small table that had not been there that morning. The best thing about staying with wealthy Purebloods, Albus thought, might well be their house-elves.  
It wasn’t until Albus was _almost_ done eating that he noticed – Gellert had not spoken once since Albus had gotten out of bed. Not a word. 

“Gellert?” He asked. “What is it?”  
Gellert looked at Albus. He looked... resigned.  
“Albus – what did this morning mean to you?”  
“The Legilimency you mean? Your inner landscape, Gellert – it is beautiful and brilliant and wild, just like you. For you to allow me access to roam free – I can’t begin to express – “

Gellert interrupted him. “Albus – do you trust me?”  
What?  
“Of course I trust you.”  
“But do you trust me completely? This morning, for me – I know that I have held things back, sometimes. I know that I have been afraid that your feelings for me might change if you were to know one thing or another. But this morning, I let you see anything, everything. It was frightening, it was embarrassing, and there were things that you found that were painful for both of us, but I allowed it because I know that you are the one person I can trust never to betray me. And you demonstrated that I am right to trust you completely – you saw some truly awful things...”  
“Gellert – I love you – you – this is not about that, is it? You know I love you?”

Gellert looked down and started pushing the leftover food on his plate around with his fork.  
“I know you do, Albus. I know you _love_ me. But when I woke up and pulled out of your arms to look at you – I realized that you don’t _trust_ me. Not like I trust you. What I did for you this morning – dropping all of my shields, giving you full access to my mind without any restrictions, without any time limit beyond the limit of what you could endure – you would not do the same for me.”  
Albus wondered if that was true. Would he? It was a moot point, really – Gellert wasn’t expert enough yet – probably... then again, he might be able to do it. After all, Gellert’s magic helped Albus – why wouldn’t Albus’ magic help Gellert? Still, it wasn't really _necessary_. Albus wouldn't have been in Gellert's head if Gellert hadn't thought it was _necessary_. Which made this a completely academic question...

Gellert anxiously tapped his fork against the edge of the table a few times before noticing what he was doing and dropping it back on his plate.  
“Albus, remember when we got married, you said we needed to share our secrets – anything we were afraid of the other person knowing about us? I don’t think it is enough to have done that once. We need to do that more often. It would be best if we didn’t have to – if we just shared everything as it happened, but – “  
“But?”

“Albus.” Gellert took Albus’ hand, which was reassuring. Albus was uncomfortable with the way this conversation was going. And it had not escaped his attention that Gellert had not used any of his little pet names for him, and that worried him.  
“Albus, I love you. And I’ve known about how – sparing you are with what you share – I’ve known it all along. I’ve known it since before we married. And I understand it, or I think I do – growing up like you did, how couldn’t you be this way? How could you trust anyone?  
“But you can trust me, Albus. It has been long enough now, I had hoped you would know you could trust me.”

“Gellert, I do know I can trust you – I do trust you.”  
“I don’t think you do, Love. I think that you are always waiting for me to decide that I was wrong about you – that you are not as intelligent, or intriguing, or sexy as I had thought. I need you to know that that is never going to happen, Albus. I love you – all of you. I will never grow to love you less – I will only grow to love you more.  
“But I don’t think that you believe this. So you become afraid, and you hide something, and then you become more afraid about sharing it the longer you wait, until finally you bury it. Without a strong stimulus, there are things you might never share with me at all.”

“Gellert, If there’s anything I have kept from you –“  
Gellert groaned and ran his free hand through his hair.  
“No, Albus – try again. ‘I have kept things from you,’ would be a better start.”  
Albus found he was at the very edge of his patience.  
“What do you want from me, Gellert?!”  
“Zagreb.”  
How did he know about Zagreb?! ... _What_ did he know about Zagreb?

“I didn’t share that right away because I was trying to protect you!” Albus shouted, withdrawing his hand from Gellert’s.  
“You were trying to protect yourself!” Gellert shouted back. Then he took a deep breath, and started talking again, in a controlled voice. “You were embarrassed, scared, angry. You were afraid that I would lose respect for you, that I would be angry with you for your experiments with the Imperius curse, that I would be disappointed in you. That I would ‘discover’ that you are stupid and careless.”  
“And?” asked Albus, angrily.  
“And what? _And_ I love you. _And_ I wish I had known that very day so that I could have held you and made you feel safe. _And_ it confused me that you would go off to learn something new and not confide in me. _And_ it hurt that you never shared any of it with me after the fact – even weeks later.”

Gellert stood, and started pacing.  
“I almost understand why you hid the abduction – though you shouldn’t have. But why hide your curiosity about the Imperius curse? I still don’t know why you were practicing the Imperius, only that you were doing it. I could have – we learn that one at Durmstrang, you know? I wouldn’t have judged you for it. I thought we shared all of our insights and experiments – I don’t understand why you would leave me out...”

Albus was beside himself.  
“You shouldn’t even know any of this! You want me to trust you? How can you know this if I didn’t tell you? I taught you Legilimency, and you use it to –“  
“To help you learn Occlumency, Albus! Remember?!” Gellert threw a plate at the wall and it shattered. Then he kicked one of Albus’ shoes, sending it sailing across the room.  
“Gods! This is what I mean about you not trusting me.”  
Gellert sat heavily on the floor, facing away from Albus.

Albus dropped his head on the table.  
Prague. 

When Albus had returned to the room in Zagreb that day, talking about learning Occlumency, Gellert had been surprised. Apparently, Occlumency had been a standard part of the curriculum at Durmstrang – with some minimal proficiency required for graduation. Gellert had assumed that it was the same at Hogwarts – or at least that it had been an elective. He said that he had always assumed that Albus was an Occlumens: he was guarded, he was good at both controlling and hiding his emotions, and when Gellert began learning Legilimency, Albus had the ability to select certain thoughts and memories to push to the surface for Gellert to read. 

They were not in Zagreb for long after Albus had declared he was learning Occlumency – only long enough for Albus to begin reading and meditating. He and Gellert discussed what he was reading, and what Gellert’s own experiences were, but Albus wasn’t ready to begin preparing his defences, much less to have Gellert test them.

Then there came the long ten days in Grein, when they were hardly ever alone together – Albus had plenty of time then to meditate on how he wanted to build his defences and organise his inner landscape.  
And so it was that when they arrived in Prague, Albus was ready for Gellert to test him and help him refine his Occlumency.

Prague.  
Of course Prague.  
Why would he accuse Gellert...?

“Gellert – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have –“  
“I would _never_ dig – never!”

Albus walked over to Gellert and laid a hand on his shoulder. Gellert shrugged it off.  
“I know, Angel. I’m an idiot. Of course you wouldn’t.”  
Gellert didn’t answer.  
“Please forgive me?”  
Gellert looked over his shoulder, and gathered the pieces of the broken plate, summoning them towards the table, reassembling them in midair until the plate landed on the table, whole again. He gestured with his head towards the table, and Albus walked back, sat back down.

Gellert stood.  
“This incident in Zagreb – it is what made you want to learn Occlumency. So when I was helping you improve your shields – this memory kept coming back up. Again and again I saw it, or parts of it – felt your emotions around it – heard your resolution _not to tell me_.”  
“Oh, Gellert. We can talk about Zagreb if you want. And the Imperius.“  
“And you wanting to single-handedly neutralize the Muggles, without involving me?”  
“Ok, that too.”  
“And your hunting?”

“Wait. Hunting?”  
“The rabbits, Albus.”  
“You know about the rabbits.”  
“You were not wrong about your predatory instinct. I’m going to ask you something that you asked me once – no humans, Schatz?”  
Albus exhaled slowly. Gellert didn’t trust him to have told him if he had killed someone. Worse, he might be right not to trust him.  
“No humans. But – “ He felt sick. “But would you leave me if – “  
Gellert knelt beside Albus and took his hand. “No! Never.”  
He paused. 

“But it does worry me how little you tell me about these things. You are going to take more risks when your focus is on hiding something from me instead of on what you are doing and why. And if you do get into some sort of trouble, I can’t help if I don’t know where you are.”  
“You’ll just try to talk me out of it.”  
“Sometimes, yes. But I respect your opinion – I won’t just ignore you – I’ll consider what you have to say. And if you don't want to hear me out, then I have to think that you don't truly respect my opinion."  
"Gellert, I do. I swear I do. You are the most intelligent person I have ever met."  
"Then it will be worth it to share your plans with me, always. We are better together, Albus.”  
Yes, they were. If he had had Gellert with him in that pub in Zagreb... 

“I’ll try to do better Gellert. I don’t want to keep things from – no. I mean, I don’t want to have the urge to keep things from you, and I’ll try to fight it. I love you.”  
Gellert stood, then pulled Albus up out of his chair. Gellert held Albus to him tightly. “I love you too. I love you.”  
“Now –“ said Gellert. “Tell me. Tell me everything.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Now it was Albus’ turn to rest his head in Gellert’s lap – Gellert’s turn to wrap one arm around Albus, to massage Albus’ scalp with his free hand.  
“I’m not sure why I do it,” Albus said.  
“I have a guess – may I...?”  
Albus hummed his assent.  
“I think you go to the woods when you are feeling powerless. Stalking the rabbits, killing them – it makes you feel powerful. It is something you can control. When the problems are too big, the rabbits – they are a problem you can solve when you are too unfocused, too enraged to feel powerful any other way.  
“You know, you could use sex for this instead, Albus.”

Now that Gellert mentioned it, the satisfaction that came from a bloody kill did feel a bit like he felt after sex. Relaxed, focused, untroubled – alive. Except –  
“No, Gellert. Not – I might hurt you. And I don’t want to have sex with you because I am angry.”  
“Powerless.”  
“Whichever.”  
“I don’t think that you would hurt me, Albus. And it is better than killing –“

“No – the feeling is – not quite the same.”  
“I know,” said Gellert quietly. “You leave the room eerily subdued, stewing, but when you come back you are – in my head, I call it ‘blood sated.’ You look – feral. At ease with yourself – confident. Like you have gone from being a human in the form of a cat to a cat in the form of a human. You have an air of contained delight.  
“But the killing alone, it is not enough for you, Love. Afterwards, you invariably pounce on me and begin tearing my clothes off.  
“It probably seems like enough immediately afterwards. You are lost in ecstasy in the midst of the kill, and afterwards you look – orgasmic. It looks like sex to me. And yet not sex, because if it were satisfying enough, you wouldn’t need to take me afterwards.”

“How do you – I don’t know how to ask – I am not asking because I don’t trust you, truly Gellert, it is just – how do you know?”  
“I was visiting Wolf when I was younger – thirteen? And we went into the woods, and I saw a lynx – it was chasing a rabbit, and caught it, and tore it to pieces before eating it. The lynx was covered in blood. It puzzled me at first – because the lynx was behaving oddly, and because I don’t have visions without people in them. But then the lynx transformed into a young man, covered in blood, lying naked in the snow, and it was you, Albus. And this summer I saw that same look on your face the first time we had sex – the moment after you came.”

“Anyway. I know enough about Animagi to know that it wasn’t necessary for you to be naked – Animagi can – and usually do – transform with their clothes on.”  
“I don’t want to get blood on my clothing.”  
“Or, you take off your clothes because you know, on some level, that what you are doing is primal, wild – that it is akin to sex.”  
Albus was – not interested in continuing this line of inquiry.

“You had a vision of me –“  
“Yes. And it was incredibly arousing. I hadn’t been truly sexually attracted to a man – to anyone – until that moment. The part with the wanton killing was unsettling – but you were gorgeous, lying on the snow covered in blood, breathing heavily with your eyes closed and your head tipped back, your mouth open, relaxed, turned up just slightly at the corners... When the vision faded, I told Wolf I was ill, and I went to my room to touch myself for the first time.”  
That was – surprising. A little disturbing. And – oddly reassuring. Gellert had wanted him – known what he was capable of and wanted him – more than three years before he had met Albus. In a sense, they had been together longer than Albus had realized.

“And have you had more visions? About me?”  
“So many more. I will share the others with you, if you like – but you must remember that they will not all come true.”  
“Let’s – I can wait for the details, but – did you have many more before you met me?”  
“Yes – more than a dozen. Perhaps as many as twenty-five, thirty. Some triggered by places, others by books or objects...  
“When I said I recognized you in Aunt Bathilda’s sitting room, I didn’t mean from just that one vision – I was already in love with who you might become. All the potentials – I thought they must paint a picture of who you really were – I could infer a starting point based on the possible ends. But until I had that vision of us having sex in Aunt Bathilda’s attic, I didn’t know that I would ever even meet you. That was the first time I had seen a vision of you with me in it. It was the best vision of my life. I had wanted you for years, and now I was going to meet you – to have you. But I didn’t know for how long, and that made the vision frightening, too.”

No wonder Gellert had leapt onto Albus so quickly that first morning. Gellert was not at all so impulsive as he appeared.  
How many other times had Gellert made decisions or had ideas that Albus thought seemed impulsive, when they had really been founded on his visions of the future?  
“Tell me about your visions about the Elder Wand.”  
Gellert grinned. “I’m glad you asked.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The morning of the Ball, Wolf had asked, ‘Where are you going next?’  
Gellert and Albus had looked at one another, and then Gellert had answered, ‘we haven’t decided yet.’ That was putting it mildly. They had been arguing about it for days. Mostly without heat – mostly with a certain intellectual detachment –but nonetheless, arguing. 

And it was then that Wolf had asked, “Are any of the places you are considering not in Europe?”  
No.  
Albus had suggested returning to Zagreb (which Gellert had been inexplicably opposed to) and continuing on to Meteora.  
Gellert had suggested returning to Prague or heading to Sicily.  
Wolf continued, “Have you thought about Constantinople?”  
Constantinople was on the edge of Europe, perhaps culturally ‘the East’ – but geographically speaking, _still in Europe_. But Albus thought it would be unhelpful to correct Wolf on this point.  
“Constantinople has a sizable German speaking community,” Wolf added.  
“And Muggle and Magical people live together there!” Gellert remembered.  
“Yes, exactly. It isn’t perhaps wide open, outside of certain circles, but magic is acknowledged, and some kinds of magic are even – appreciated? Seen as desirable?”

That afternoon, Gellert and Albus discussed going to Constantinople, and found that they were both excited by the possibility.  
“Well,” Gellert had said, sounding relieved, “It seems we have an answer now as to where we will go next.”

But that was before Gellert had learned of the possibility of the Elder Wand being in Königsberg. It quickly became clear to Albus that Gellert would not be deterred from pursuing the supposed Elder Wand.  
It had seemed a bad idea to Albus. For one thing, they didn’t need wands anymore. At best, a wand would be extraneous. If anything, the two of them were above wands. There was no need to risk getting caught – even killed – for something so unnecessary.  
Worse, Gellert was convinced that the Wand was nearly sentient – that it carried the memories of all of the magic that had been done with it by more than 80 Wizards over a millennium or more. While Gellert found this exciting, Albus found it unnerving. ‘Does the Wand wield the Wizard?’ Gellert had asked the night before – and though he had been throwing his friends off the scent, Albus couldn’t help but think that some part of Gellert’s mind had been giving them a warning.  
But what worried Albus the most was that this wand, among other things, was part of Gellert’s quest for immortality – a quest that could only end in insanity.

Nevertheless, it was only fair for him to hear Gellert out.  
And hearing that, in his visions at least, they did manage to hold the wand in secret (suggesting that they were not caught stealing it), that Gellert and Albus were able to share the wand (indicating that Gellert did not form some sort of warped possessive relationship with the artefact), that they still had it when they were old (which indicated that they were not killed for it – or at least, that being killed for it was not inevitable), and that after decades of using it, they were still – themselves... it seemed possible that having the wand would at least not be destructive. Necessarily. After all, as Gellert was forever warning, his visions were not certain to come true. 

When Albus questioned him as to whether he had had any troubling visions of the Wand, Gellert had admitted that there had been one vision which contradicted all of the others – a vision in which Gellert and Albus were dueling, some decades from now. In his vision, Albus was insisting that Gellert was dangerous and needed to give himself up, stand trial for – something. Albus defeated Gellert and took the Wand from him. The vision ended before it could be made clear whether Albus had killed Gellert or not. But given their blood pact, such a battle would surely kill them both.  
“When did you have this vision?”  
“Well – I was wrong to say that I had had no visions of you with me in them before the one at Aunt Bathilda’s. This was one of my first visions. Father had taken me to Cologne. The buildings were beautiful... and then in my eyes they were just rubble, and a much older me was dueling for his life. Dueling someone he knew – someone he cared for. I was – six, I think? Five maybe?”

“Gellert! How horrifying! To see what might be your death when you were so young!”  
Albus sat up and looked at Gellert. “Look at me?”  
He pushed an image at Gellert of him sitting in Gellert’s lap, straddling him, holding him close, his hands gripping the back of Gellert’s shirt, Gellert’s head against Albus’ shoulder.  
Gellert nodded, and Albus hurried onto Gellert’s lap and clung to him tightly. 

“I love you, Albus. I – please, I – I can’t fight you. I can’t bear to think that we might –“  
“Never, Gellert. I will never fight you. I swear. I am yours. Always.”  
“You promise?” Gellert’s voice sounded uncharacteristically small and far away.  
Albus rubbed his back, kissed the top of his head. “I just did. I promise. I love you.”  
Albus moved one hand up to pet Gellert’s head. “But, Love? I need – No, sorry, not need. I want to ask you some questions about the vision, ok?”  
He felt Gellert nod against his shoulder. 

“When – how old were we in the vision?”  
“I was so young – we seemed impossibly old. We were visibly older than my father. But my father was not quite 40 at the time. I would guess – sixty maybe?”  
Sixty. Sixty and dueling in a ruined urban landscape? What was going to happen to their world?  
“And the next vision you had of me?”  
“Seven or eight years later – the one of you in the forest. I had no idea it was the same person – I thought I was seeing you for the first time.”  
“Are you sure it was me, then? In the vision?”  
“The way you said my name in the vision – it was your voice – your angry voice. That day you learned that I had put a trace on Aberforth, you shouted my name – and I knew. It was – this is what occlumency is for – I was terrified for a moment, and then I packaged and buried the insight behind my shields, to examine once I was alone.”  
That had been a difficult day. Gellert must have been even more scared of Albus rejecting him than had been apparent at the time, knowing the possible consequences of such a break.

“So – let’s sum up: you had this vision, say, ten, twelve years ago; we are still 40 or so years away from the time in which the vision takes place; this vision is contradicted by multiple other visions you have had; we now have a blood pact that would kill us both before we could even get close to finishing such a duel; and –“ Albus tipped up Gellert’s face and kissed his forehead, “And we love each other very much.  
“I will _never_ fight you, Gellert. Never. I think this is one of those visions that we have avoided somehow. It must be.”

No, Albus would never allow such a thing to take place. He was prepared even to destroy the Wand if it became a liability. Nothing would stand between him and Gellert – not even one of the Deathly Hallows.  
But for now, pursuing the Wand was important to Gellert, and there was no sufficient reason to deny him. It looked like they would be going to Königsberg.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

That evening, as they were lying in bed together, Albus said, “If we are going to take the Wand from Gregorovitch, we need to be prepared. We will not need to kill him, will we?” Albus couldn’t believe that he hadn’t asked before now. This was a line they hadn’t crossed yet – a line they had not even discussed crossing.  
“Killing him would be excessive. But we do have to defeat him – it is not enough to simply – take it from his bedside table.”  
“Defeat him? What does it mean to defeat him without killing him?”  
“He needs to be aware that we have bested him. Or perhaps it is the Wand that needs to recognize the conquest. Either way, what we would need to do is the same. It would be easiest to take the Wand when he is not holding it. Once we have the Wand, we would use it to cast a Stupefy, or to throw him against a wall with a Depulso, or to immobilize him with a Petrificus Totalus or an Incarcerous... Or we could simply take him down physically like a Muggle. I imagine that would work, too. After all, mundane means have been used before to kill the Wand’s masters – swords and the like. So why not knock him out physically, if need be? But that should be a last resort.”

“You have – thought about this rather a lot.”  
Gellert grinned. “Of course I have! Some of my first visions – at least, some of my first _interesting_ visions – were of this Wand. I would be reading a story about the Hallows, and... well. That is how I became convinced that the legends were true. Here, look – Accio Wand notes.”  
Three rolls of parchment went flying out of Gellert’s trunk and he caught them out of the air. He opened one. “This is a history of everyone who has held the Wand – I’ve been able to fill in a great deal of the missing names. I’ve noted how each person obtained the Wand and when, how long they had it before they lost it... Most of these owners end up murdered – but not all. It is completely unnecessary to kill someone just for this wand, just as it is for any wand – it is entirely possible to obtain the wand in another way. But it seemed to me that, if I wanted to be successful, I needed to have imagined as many ways as possible to claim the Wand’s allegiance.”

“This other parchment tells the story of how different people used the Wand. It has long been suggested that a wand carries the knowledge of anything it has been used to do. Priori Incantum just scratches the surface. A wand wants to do what it has done before – to take the path of least resistance. But it also becomes better with practice, just as a person would do. It is rumoured that the Elder Wand not only carries these memories, but can communicate that information to its master.”  
That was ominous.  
“Finally, _this_ parchment is a record of every vision I have had that involves the Elder Wand.”

Gellert was – definitely serious about this quest. How had they never spoken about it?  
When Albus wondered this out loud, Gellert answered with a laugh: “Probably too busy having sex.” That was not a bad theory. Still, Albus had to wonder if Gellert had been holding back for some other reason.  
“Perhaps we should be having less sex, then,” Albus teased.  
“Oh no you don’t,” said Gellert. His voice was stern, but his eyes were filled with love and mischief. He pinned Albus down and began kissing him. “I need you more than I need anything.”

“Oh? You are not going to leave me for The Elder Wand?”  
Gellert laughed, “Have you moved on from being jealous of people then, mein Kätzchen? Jealous of a wand now?”  
“I have heard that it is quite intimidatingly long,” said Albus, barely managing a straight face.  
“Hmm. That is true...”  
Albus hit him in the chest with the palm of his hand.  
Gellert pretended to scramble to make amends. “Be that as it may, The Elder Wand is not nearly girthy enough to be satisfying _at all_ , I imagine. And in any case, I am terribly fond of your – wand – and all that it is attached to, Liebhaber.”  
“Hmm. Well. I’m glad you find it satisfactory – I understand that the wand chooses the wizard.”  
“In this case, perhaps we should say the wand chooses its holster.”  
Albus barked out a laugh in surprise, but quickly pulled himself back together.  
“I suppose I do not need to worry that you might replace me with the Elder Wand, then.”  
“Gods, no. And not only because our vows might cause me to bleed out if I were to give in and fuck myself with it.”  
Albus lost all composure, and burst into uncontrollable laughter, and Gellert followed him. Every time it seemed they might be starting to calm down, they would catch each other’s eyes and start laughing again, until finally they were lying side by side on the bed, gasping.

When they were finally still and their breathing was no longer ragged, Albus rolled onto his side and ran a finger down the side of Gellert’s face.  
“I love you, Gellert. I love you forever. ”  
Gellert turned to face Albus. “Oh, my Love. I know.”  
Gellert gently pushed against Albus’ shoulder, signaling him to lay back, then he lay on top of him. He kissed Albus gently. “I love you too. So much.”  
Albus took Gellert in – his extraordinary eyes, his soft lips, his pale wavy hair hanging around his face. Albus reached up to touch Gellert’s cheek – but Gellert turned his head and caught one of Albus’ fingers in his mouth. Albus moaned and rolled his hips, pressing his clothed cock up against Gellert’s.  
Gellert gasped. “Albus, please... I want – “ He kissed Albus reverently, as if his tongue needed to pay homage to every surface in Albus’ mouth. “... I want for us to take our time.”  
Albus trailed his hand down Gellert’s back lightly, deliberately. “Take all night, if you want, Angel. I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AlbusGellertAlways deserves the credit for inspiring the banter around whether Albus needs to be jealous of the Elder Wand – see the end of chapter 4 in their fic [Ask GGAD](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748884/chapters/47691409#workskin)
> 
> Also... I have to wonder if Gellert really objects to Albus gratuitously killing rabbits? Or if what he really objects to is the possibility of Albus getting off on anything but him... Jury’s still out on that one, IMO


	21. Wolf and Otto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, we learn about what happened with Otto|Wolf and Wolf|Otto at the Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: All plot, no smut. It had to happen sometime...

Chapter 20  
February 1900 (continued)

After lunch the next day, Gellert and Albus apparated into Wizarding Vienna to meet Wolf. Wolf was meant to have left for Durmstrang early that morning, but he had decided to skip Monday’s classes in order to ‘collect himself.’ Or that was what he had said to Albus and Gellert. Albus felt that it was likely that Wolf was doing it to spite his father – a small rebellion to assert his independence after the events of the past weekend. 

Gellert had been to Vienna many times with Wolf, but like so many other things he had experienced since meeting Gellert, this was Albus’ first time. Albus was eager to see what the bookstore had to offer.  
“I hear it is one of the largest in Eastern Europe!” Albus said.  
“ _Central_ Europe!” insisted Wolf.  
Gellert waved his hand and said, “Anything east of Bavaria is Eastern Europe.” Apparently this was an old argument. Or, at least Wolf was arguing. Gellert was just winding Wolf up – it was clear to Albus that Gellert truly had no strong opinion about how to place Austria geographically. But as the argument progressed and Gellert began to insist that Wolf did not speak Austrian German (‘there is no such thing!’), but Bavarian, it seemed to Albus that _that_ opinion was sincere. It was much easier for Albus to tell whether Gellert was teasing when he was not on the receiving end of it.

Albus bought some German language journals (it was a goal of his to get Gellert to help him translate some of his transfiguration articles into German – it would serve him right), a book on the history of magic in the Muslim world, a book on translation spells, and the latest Wizarding newspapers out of Constantinople, London, Paris, and Königsberg. For Gellert, he picked up a book comparing theories about the reasons for the existence of Muggleborns, and why they ‘didn’t exist’ in Central and Eastern Europe.

Albus exited the shop and set off to find Gellert and Wolf. They were in a shop that sold magical artefacts, entertaining themselves with a game of ‘is it a fake?’ Albus gave them each a little push with his magic and said, “That’s enough – let’s get coffee.”  
Gellert began to wander in the opposite direction, and called over his shoulder, “You go on without me – I’ll find you.”  
“How -?” began Wolf  
Albus sighed. “Whenever he says that, it means that he is a moment away from placing a tracking spell on me.”

Sure enough, Gellert had turned back around to face them and had his wand out.  
"How do you do that?" Albus asked.  
"Do what?"  
"Walk backwards without running into anything?"  
Gellert laughed and cast the spell.  
‘I love you,’ Albus pushed.  
‘I love you, too. Now run along so Wolf doesn’t get a look at my purchases.’  
“Come on Wolf. If Gellert wants to keep wasting his time in here, he won’t get a say in where we go. I’m too hungry to wait.”

“Goodbye, Gellert,” Gellert said. “We will miss your sunny presence terribly!”  
Wolf sighed. “You had better not be here long enough for us to miss you. Only just long enough for us to recover.”  
Gellert dramatically placed his hand over his heart and staggered backwards a step – and Albus and Wolf walked out the door together. 

“I’m not sure why he bothered putting that charm on you. There is really only one place... Albus? Why are we walking towards the entrance to – to – “  
“Muggle Vienna? Oh, Wolf. You do not know what you are missing, spending all of your time with Wizards. You will find,” said Albus, “that Muggle food is better, and more varied. There is an extraordinary array of cafes and bakeries to choose from in any major European city. Most Wizarding districts have only one – so if it is mediocre, you simply settle for it, and don’t know any better. Prepare to be amazed.”  
“It is all about the food with him,” Gellert stage whispered over Albus’ shoulder.  
That was fast. He must have already known what he was going to purchase.  
Albus narrowed his eyes at Gellert, but there wasn’t any heat in it. Gellert’s teasing and Albus’ indignation was more of a ritualized performance at this point, at least when it came to food.

Albus transfigured their robes into overcoats. They passed through an archway fitted with wooden doors and suddenly found themselves on a narrow street.  
“I’m not sure what it is with you two and Muggles,” said Wolf. “It is freezing here, the streets are slushy, and there are far too many people. It smells...” Albus continued to lead them until they emerged onto a sidewalk beside a busy street.  
“By Woden’s beard! Why are there so many horses? And so much horse shit? And so many carriages tossing up the shitty slush?”  
Gellert bumped his shoulder against Wolf. “Pipe down. You’ll draw attention.”  
Albus had to suppress a laugh, given how many times he had been forced to tell Gellert something similar. But it was true that he had improved a great deal. It had been some time since Albus had had to obliviate a Muggle. He hoped he didn’t have to today. Vienna was crowded.  
Wolf didn’t say another word, but he did not look happy about where he had found himself.

They had only walked a couple of blocks before Albus found a cafe that met his standards.  
“Cafe Central?” asked Wolf. “Why here?”  
“Because it is closest, and he didn’t want to risk having to obliviate a street full of Muggles on your account,” said Gellert.  
“Food,” said Albus, as if Gellert had said nothing at all, “is its own kind of magic. This one – glows the best.”  
Gellert sighed. “Don’t question it. Somehow, he is always right about these things.” 

They located a table, and Albus set up his spell.  
“It makes what we are saying – boring?” asked Wolf, confused.  
“Sure, whatever we are saying, it is transformed into something dull, but also tailored to the listener's expectations. And as a second layer of protection, no matter how close a person comes to us, our speech is just on the edge of hearing.”  
“What an astonishing piece of magic! Can you teach me this charm?”  
“Gladly, but not here, obviously. When we get back to the Wizarding district."  
Albus began studying the menu. “Now let’s see, the apple strudel, I think, and...”  
Gellert turned to Wolf, “No matter how much he bullies you, do not feel compelled to order any food. Not everyone has his metabolism.”  
Albus looked Wolf over. “Have you even looked at him, Gellert? There is nothing at all wrong with Wolf’s build. He has nothing to worry about – he can eat as much as he wants without any trouble.”

Albus returned to his menu, failing to notice Wolf’s reaction to his scrutiny.  
“Albus.” Albus could hear the smile in Gellert’s voice and looked up at him. “You can’t just do that to people. Now Wolf thinks you find him attractive.”  
Was that so? Albus looked over at Wolf, and he did look a bit embarrassed.  
“I apologize, Wolf. It is just that – well, I would have found what Gellert said about metabolisms to be insulting.”  
He met Gellert’s eyes, and frowned, for Wolf’s benefit. Meanwhile he decided to torment Gellert with the thought, ‘There is no denying that he is attractive, Love.’  
That stirred up an interesting mix of consternation, amusement, and jealousy in his husband.  
“It’s fine. I’m used to him,” said Wolf.  
“Tell me, how long did that take you? To get used to him...”

Mercifully for Gellert, the waiter came at that moment, and Albus did not have much more opportunity to poke at him.  
After they had placed their orders and the waiter had walked away, a mischievous look appeared on Gellert’s face. Albus found himself dreading whatever was about to happen next. Gellert was sure to be getting him back.  
“So Wolf – tell me how you liked being my brother?”

Wolf’s face became red, and his jaw tightened.  
Oh no. That was below the belt.  
“I do not know why I allowed _your_ friend to talk me into such a humiliating scheme.”  
Albus thought that it would be better if he didn’t speak, given that Wolf was clearly too angry about the escapade to speak to Albus. But Gellert had no qualms about further involving Albus.  
“I’m sure humiliating you wasn’t Albus' _chief_ motivation.”  
“Gellert! It wasn’t my intention at all! I like Wolf!”  
Gellert shot a look at Albus. ‘Well you certainly like to look at him it seems.’  
‘Seriously, Gellert? I was only teasing you.’  
‘Perhaps I am only teasing you now.’  
Ah. Gellert’s feelings had been hurt, and now he was hurting Albus back. Lovely.

“So you like me well enough to enable that little doxy to portray me as a moron?!”  
Wolf was not feeling well disposed towards Albus – that was clear.  
And his jealous man would not take it well if he ‘took Wolf’s side’ – as if all of Wolf’s displeasure at the moment weren’t the result of both Albus and Wolf having been firmly on Gellert’s side on the night of the ball. 

Since he had a feeling that Gellert would think he had won no matter what Albus did, Albus decided to play. This was a ridiculous conversation, and he refused to take it seriously.  
“Doxy?” Albus asked, as if confused. He had learned this move from Gellert, and he was interested to see how it would play out.  
“Tiny, harmless looking, venomous...” Wolf fumed.

“I have always found it unnerving, how well Otto hides his razor sharp teeth,” Gellert contributed.  
“Does he have a feral grin?” Albus wondered. “I was only with him for a few minutes...”  
“The grin, yes. But just two legs, so far as I know...”  
“You know what I mean!” Wolf shouted. “Your brother is a menace!”  
Gellert did not look at all offended. In fact, he looked like he considered ‘menace’ a compliment.

The epithet was not unearned.  
At dinner the night before, they had heard all about Otto’s revenge from Wolf’s father – who naturally assumed that it had been his son all along.  
“I had no idea that you had such an interest in espionage, Wolf.”  
Wolf, whose mouth was full of wine at the time, choked.  
“Espionage?” he asked, with trepidation.  
“Indeed. I heard from Reinhold Gruber that you were speaking with his son last night about house elves, and how little they are appreciated as sources of information. You went on at some length about it, apparently.”

“I –“ Wolf appeared to be at a loss. Gellert, on the other hand, was hiding a smile behind a napkin. He risked a brief look at Albus: ‘Otto.’ Oh no.  
“I would have thought, Wolf, that if you had any interest in collecting and brokering private information that you would have the intelligence not to broadcast it.”

Wolf must have been quickly formulating a strategy for damage control, because he answered with, “Ah – Herr Gruber must have misunderstood. I was speaking with Lorenz about house elves not from the perspective of leveraging them against their owners, but instead suggesting that families with elves should be aware of the secrets which their own house elves hold, and treat them in a way that ensures –“

“Do you think I’m stupid?”  
Wolf’s father paused. He genuinely seemed to be wanting an answer. Albus privately thought that Wolf’s father was indeed a bit stupid to be chastising Wolf in front of his friends. It would weaken his son to lose face in front of him and Gellert (or would have done, if they weren’t well aware that Wolf was not to blame), and it would create a rift between himself and his son. He also seemed to be embarrassing his wife, whose surface thoughts Albus had just now read – she saw exactly the problems that Albus had seen with Lord Wurdiztal’s behaviour.  
But Wolf did as required, and, like a child, answered, “No sir.”  
“Then you should not think you could get away with lying to me.”

Wolf looked panicked for a moment.  
“If you are not interested in espionage, then explain why you moved on from house elves to polyjuice potion, which you apparently called ‘overrated,’ saying that a person under polyjuice could never truly fool someone who had even a passing acquaintance with the Wizard being impersonated.”  
The cheeky crup!  
“Well –“  
“Polyjuice potion is a restricted substance!”

Wolf was silent for a moment. Then he simply said, “I’m sorry sir. I must not have been myself.”  
Gellert winked at Wolf in appreciation of the clever – and truthful – response, and Wolf answered with a frown. It was the first Wolf had heard of Otto’s behaviour while impersonating him at the ball. 

Otto’s retaliation did seem to Albus to be a bit out of proportion to Wolf’s treatment of him – he had thought that perhaps Otto would pat Wolf on the head and call him a sweet bunny or something like that. The hit to Wolf’s reputation would not last long, but it was nevertheless a hit. Still, Albus couldn’t fail to appreciate the bit about the polyjuice.

All in all, it had been a very rough evening for Wolf, and Albus was not surprised that he was still feeling the sting less than 24 hours later. He was beginning to feel a bit bad for him. But only a bit. He still blamed Wolf for what had happened to Gellert at the end of the ball – things might have gone differently if he hadn’t insisted on keeping Gellert and Albus completely apart from one another.  
Nonetheless, Albus did not want it to reach the point of Wolf snapping, so he intervened before Gellert could wind Wolf up any further.  
“I am so sorry, Wolf. I did suspect that Otto would prank you, but I had assumed he would just – ruffle your hair or something, call you a silly pet name – it does seem that he went too far.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes.

“But – I believe that Gellert was asking what you experienced when you were pretending to be Otto...”  
Wolf sobered. “Lord Wermut is absurdly controlling. I think that Otto would have been better off with your father last night, and that is something I never thought I would say.”  
That was a damning appraisal. Albus had seen a few alcohol soaked memories of Gellert’s father the day before, and the man was terrifying. Perhaps he behaved more reasonably in public?  
Gellert’s swirled his coffee cup thoughtfully. “Controlling how?”  
Albus did not often see Gellert that calm and disinterested. It was never a good sign. He was likely calculating how best to ‘handle’ Lord Wermut.

“He didn’t let me out of his sight. He scolded me for speaking to ‘that Halfblood friend of your brother’s.’ When I asked if I could see you, he said, ‘I have had enough of your questions.’ When he introduced me to some friends of his, he had his hand on my shoulder the entire time, and would squeeze it painfully if I said something – I guess something he didn’t agree with? Or thought was improper to say?  
“I was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to get out of his sight long enough to switch back with Otto. I’m still astonished that we managed it.”

Gellert was unusually quiet, so Albus said, “Well, we must all be thankful then that he does not live with Lord Wermut, but is always with the Grindelwalds or at Durmstrang. And when he marries Lina –“  
Gellert looked up. “Yes, that is true,” he confirmed, “she will be brought into our home. Otto will not go live with her family.”  
“I thought so. I’m sure it was a terrible weekend for him, but mercifully he is already back at school now. So,” Albus said, looking at Wolf, “While his prank was unkind, you have helped me to understand why he might have been looking to have a little fun.”

Wolf sulked. “If he wanted a little fun, he could have smoked a cigarette, or danced with a flirtatious married woman.”  
They all knew that Otto couldn’t do the first without being caught later smelling of tobacco, and that Otto wouldn’t do the second out of a sense of loyalty to Lina. But neither Gellert nor Albus corrected Wolf.

“Wolf,” Gellert said, “Thank you so much for helping me see my brother. I’m glad you were not caught.”  
Wolf seemed to realize at that juncture that he was complaining about what had perhaps been the single best part of his good friend’s evening.  
“You’re welcome, Gellert. It was my pleasure.”  
Gellert laughed at that. “Liar! It most certainly was not! I appreciate it particularly because it was not a pleasure for you in the least.”

Wolf smiled. “No. No it wasn’t. It was worth it though. What did you talk about?”  
“Well, it was difficult, because most of that time we were not alone. Mostly we communicated in subtle references that others would miss, but that didn’t really mean very much besides establishing his identity. But we did have a few moments leaning against the rail on the terrace. He thanked me for falling out of favour with Father,” Gellert laughed at this, “So that he could marry Lina. He’s besotted, the poor little chipmunk. I would feel better if I knew that she felt the same way, but I’m not certain if she does.”  
Wolf hesitated. “I – think she had been rather looking forward to marrying you, Gellert.”

Albus sighed. Poor Otto. Hopefully he wasn’t aware of that, yet. Hopefully Lina would come around before he could figure it out. If not, it might cause problems between Gellert and Otto.  
“Fuck. Well – it is a shame that Otto is marrying such an unintelligent woman. He will make a far better husband for her than I would.”  
“She’ll come around. Otto is wonderful,” Albus suggested.  
Gellert looked at Albus, his lip twitching in amusement. “Should I be worried, Liebling?”  
Albus deadpanned, “Sadly, I don’t think Otto is interested.”

Wolf looked horrified for just a moment before realizing that Albus had not been serious.  
Albus thought that Wolf might benefit from yet another change in subject.

“Would you like to walk with us through Muggle Vienna a bit? I am needing to pick up timetables at the train station.”  
“You are taking a _Muggle train_?”  
Albus was disappointed, but not surprised by Wolf's incredulity. “Oh, yes. We’ve done it before.”  
Honestly. The distrust so many Purebloods had for the company of Muggles. Or perhaps it was disdain for doing things without magic? It was easy to get Purebloods to agree that Wizards should rule over Muggles. But you couldn't very well lead people you had no interest in understanding. In the long run, sequestered Purebloods were going to be a liability to the movement, unless they could be persuaded to see Muggles as, well, human.  
“Wolf. You have not travelled until you have travelled by train. It is not instant at all – you skip nothing – you see every inch of ground between your place of departure and your destination. There are so many things to see in this world! Things that can be easily missed by apparating or taking a portkey. The farm fields! The forests! The rivers!”  
“You can see all of that from the air on a broom, Gellert,” Wolf said dismissively.  
“Sure, it is like taking a broom, if you were protected from the elements, and on the ground, and seated comfortably, and able to sleep – can you imagine taking a _broom_ from here to Constantinople, Wolf? No. Trains are far superior to brooms. And since I do not need to attend to controlling the train, I can relax and enjoy the view.”

Albus laughed. “Gellert is quite fond of trains, if you couldn’t tell.”  
“Don’t make fun, Albus.”  
“I’m not, Love. It’s adorable.”  
Wolf rolled his eyes. “He is not adorable. He’s ridiculous.”  
“I’m quite a jealous man, Wolf. I would probably be upset if you thought Gellert was adorable. I am satisfied that you think he is ridiculous.”  
“Well I’m not satisfied!” Gellert protested. “Adorable is bad enough, but ridiculous...”  
Albus ignored him. “So what do you say, Wolf? Train station?”  
“Oh, why not. I don’t suppose I would be able to find my way back to Wizarding Vienna without you anyway.”  
Albus would have escorted him back to the door gladly, but he didn’t correct Wolf. In his opinion overthrowing the Statute of Secrecy would require demystifying Muggles for Wizards, as much as it required demystifying Wizards for Muggles. 

Gellert took Wolf on a tour of the train station while Albus collected timetables: Constantinople, Switzerland, the German Empire, Russia... He put all but the Constantinople timetable in the pocket of his coat and caught up to Wolf and Gellert.  
“I’ve got it! We can leave tomorrow.”  
“Let’s leave the next day, Albus. There are still some books I would like to consult in the Wurdiztal library before we head east.”  
Albus agreed.  
“Now,” said Gellert, turning towards Wolf, “I suppose it is time for us to send you on your way!”

Once they had seen Wolf through the floo, they returned to the Wurdiztals for dinner.  
As they were lying in bed that evening, Albus asked, “What did you and Otto really talk about?”  
Gellert was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts.  
“Otto knows that Lina is disappointed not to be marrying me. I only said what I said to Wolf to see if it is common knowledge. It seems that at least some people other than ourselves know, which makes matters a little more difficult.”

“How does Otto –“  
“Oh, Otto was good humoured about it. Said that he would prefer to marry me also.”  
Albus laughed.  
“But I could tell that it hurts him. I told him that he had three years before they were wed, and she would change her mind well before then – that she would come to want him more than she had ever wanted me. That she only wanted me because she had gotten used to the idea.”  
“Do you believe that, Love?”  
“That she wanted me out of convenience? No. But she knew little about me but my wit, my title, and my appearance, and Otto has all three – and I no longer have a title. Otto will graduate from Durmstrang, and whatever his opinions are, he is slow to publicly contradict conventional wisdom. She cares enough about appearances that these things will matter to her. He is a much better match for her, and she will see it – given enough time.”  
Albus hoped that Gellert was right. If not, it would make visits with Otto very awkward after he was married.

“His rant about polyjuice while being polyjuiced...”  
“The Otto I knew at home was so circumspect... He was more free at school, but I didn’t know that he was capable of mischief on such a scale. But there is certainly freedom in being disguised... I am grateful that you managed to persuade him to agree to such an undertaking. I imagine that he was trying to impress you as much as he was trying to thwart his father-in-law. Seeing me was perhaps a tertiary concern.”  
“I’m sure you know that is not true, Gellert. He was beside himself, wishing he could see you and not knowing how to effect it. It took very little persuading.”  
Gellert smiled. “He’s a good brother... I meant it, though. You made quite an impression on him." He ran a thumb along the side of Albus’ face. "He seems to think you are some intriguing cross between an adventurer, a bandit, and a gentleman.”  
“He thinks I’m like you, you mean,” said Albus, kissing Gellert. “Was that all?”

Gellert sighed and threw an arm up over his head. “No – he’s worried that Father is going to try to do me some kind of harm. But he had no specifics, so I told him that there was a great deal of difference between Father wishing me harm, and him actually doing something about it. His mind was not at all at ease over the matter, however, so I advised him to ask the house elves about father’s state of mind. They have always adored Otto – he treats them more kindly than any Pureblood I’ve ever seen. If they don’t see or hear anything suspicious, then Otto can be reassured that I am safe. If they do – then Otto can send an elf to me to warn me of the specific threat in person. I’m not particularly worried, but he needed to feel that he could do something for me.”  
House elves. Otto, it seemed, had enjoyed waving more than one truth under Lorenz Gruber’s nose.

“Does he know about us?”  
“It does not seem that he even suspects. He is so exclusively interested in girls that I doubt he finds any rumour of my interest in men to be credible. And I’m sure that Father would rather give up his magic than say anything about it in front of Otto.  
“We will talk about it one day, I imagine, but I think not until after Father has died, and perhaps Mother as well. In any case, the Ball was not the appropriate venue for that conversation.”  
Albus was of the opinion that too many knew about them as it was, and brother or not, he was just as glad that his friendship with Gellert was not at all romantic in Otto’s mind.  
“I agree.”

“He has missed you, you know,” Albus continued. “Playing a prank in order to evade Lord Wermut of course made the experience all the better. But getting to see you and to talk to you – he hated how long it had been. We need to find a way for you to see Otto more often, Gellert.”  
Gellert tried to smile, but it fell flat. “Arguably, I didn’t get to ‘see’ him this time!”  
Hmm. That sounded very much like a ‘there is no possible way to make that happen, Albus, and I am going to tell a joke so that I don’t have to say so.’ But if Gellert wanted him to drop it, he would.

“The important thing,” Gellert said, “is that he is doing well. He is doing well in school, he is in Father’s good graces, and he seems good-natured about everything. I wish that I could be there for him, but perhaps he doesn’t need me.”  
“Needing and wanting are two different things, Liebling," Albus answered. "I don’t know if he needs you, but he wants your company very much. You are lucky to have such a brother.”

Albus couldn’t help but think of Aberforth. What might they have been to each other if it had not been for Ariana?  
Not that Gellert’s home had been an easy place to grow up either. Perhaps he and Aberforth would have been too different in any world. But he did wish that things could have been different.

Gellert’s thoughts seemed to be moving in the same direction.  
“Albus? Do we need to return to Britain?”  
“What? No. Aberforth doesn’t want to see me.”  
“I believe that you just said, Albus, that wanting and needing are two different things. Do you think that Aberforth might _need_ you?”  
“I don’t know. I write twice a month, but he never answers my owls. Why are you encouraging me to visit Aberforth anyway? It was just two months ago that you were saying that it was too soon to return – that there was no telling how Aberforth might treat me.”  
“I don’t know – I guess, seeing Otto... He’s your only family, Albus. Well, him and Ariana.”

Albus crawled onto Gellert. “No, Love. You are my family. We share one blood and one heart and one destiny forever.”  
He leaned down to kiss Gellert deeply, pouring all his love and desire and reassurance into it. He rested his forehead against Gellert’s, and recalling the words they had spoken on the night they made their blood pact, he said, “I have marked you mine forever, Gellert Grindelwald.”  
Gellert shivered and caught Albus' lips in another kiss. He ran his fingers down the center of Albus’ already bare chest and said, “And I you, Albus Dumbledore.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

When they took their leave of the Wurdiztals, they apparated into Muggle Vienna to spend a couple of nights making plans. Or so Albus thought.

The moment they closed the door to their room behind them, Albus voiced a concern: “Gellert – why did you only pay for one night?”  
“Aren’t we leaving for Königsberg tomorrow?”  
“Gellert, we can’t just walk in there and take the Wand. Not looking like ourselves. You said yourself that we don’t want anyone to know that we have it. And that we have to personally defeat Gregorovitch.”  
“Yes, of course. But we will have plenty of time to review our plans on the train, and when we get to Königsberg, we will keep an eye on Gregorovitch for a few days before making our move.”  
“No, Gellert. We have to wait and brew some Polyjuice before we go. I depleted the last of my stores switching Wolf and Otto at the Ball.”

“Why can’t you just glamour yourself?”  
“I’m still not as good at that as you are, Gellert. It takes constant attention to hold – I tend to let it slip when I’m surprised or otherwise distracted. Which seems likely to happen under these circumstances. And if someone sees me – then it will become known who has the Wand.”  
“Well, we would do better to practice your glamour then. Polyjuice will only last an hour.”  
“No, that last batch was almost a year old, and it had been brewed by one of my classmates. I can do better – it will be easy to make a batch that will last at least six hours. But it still takes a month to brew.”

“A month! Albus!”  
“This would work perfectly, if you think about it, Raven – we will have plenty of time to keep an eye on Gregorovitch – learn his habits. Discover where he keeps the Wand.”  
Gellert sighed. “I’m still terrible at flying, Albus. I don’t look natural at all.”  
“How would you know? You can’t see yourself fly! You look perfectly natural in flight, Love. It is only your landings that need some work. We can practice this week.”  
Gellert tried another argument. “What if someone else claims the Wand while we are waiting?”  
Albus scoffed. “Who else could manage it?”

Gellert fixed him with a stern look. “We are powerful, but we are not the most powerful wizards in all Europe...”  
“Yet.”  
“Yet,” Gellert conceded.  
“Well – as long as we are keeping an eye on Gregorovitch, we could prevent anyone else from getting close to the Wand.”

“Albus, does it truly take a month? How long will we need to wait, exactly?”  
“Well, I already had some of the ingredients I need, and I picked up all of the other supplies at the apothecary earlier today –“  
“You were assuming I’d say yes, I see.”  
Albus kissed him on the cheek. “I was assuming that you would see reason. Correct.  
“It does not really take a full month – 23 days, if all goes perfectly. I have several cauldrons, so I can brew different batches, in case one doesn’t turn out. So – let’s say 26 days at most, allowing for several batches going wrong.”  
Not that Albus had ever had that problem. Potioneering was not his strongest skill, but he was better than average, at least. 

Gellert pulled out his wand, and made several complicated motions. The room darkened slightly, and a small moon appeared. It began moving through its phases, and stopped on...  
“That’s the first quarter moon. I had hoped we could strike nearer the new moon – less light on the streets – easier to get away.”  
“Well we could always wait for the next –“  
“No Albus, we have to have the Wand before March 19 – which is..." He trailed off and set the illusory moon to shifting again. "Not far past the full moon.”  
“But why –“  
“March 20 is the equinox.”  
Naturally. There was some ritual involved.  
“Well, we will just have to take the Wand when the moon is half-full. If we are careful, it should not be a problem.”

“Fine, Albus. But three and a half weeks in Vienna will be too long. Too many people know us here, and we told Wolf that we were on our way to Constantinople.”  
“I agree. I was thinking that we would head north towards Königsberg, and stop in Thorn. It is much nearer to Königsberg, but not too near.”  
“I have never been to Thorn.”  
“I thought not,” said Albus, smiling. “No apparating, then. I suppose we shall have to take the train.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So – if you have only seen the movies, I strongly recommend reading _Deathly Hallows_. I have almost 20 relevant passages flagged in my copy – literally little post-it flags sticking out of it.  
> In chapter 14 (“The Thief”) Harry sees Gellert stealing the wand, and describes him this way: “there on the window ledge sat perched, like a giant bird, a young man with golden hair… Harry saw the delight on his handsome face, then the intruder… jumped neatly backward out of the window with a crow of laughter… Harry could still see the blond-haired youth’s face; it was merry, wild; there was a Fred and George-ish air of triumphant trickery about him…”  
> JKR painted quite a picture of Gellert in so few words. (Genius!) This brief passage has influenced my depiction of Gellert a great deal.


	22. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There are going to be some references to the Holocaust in here. Because it was a pivotal event not only in the history of the Jewish people, but also in the broader history of Europe, as well as strongly impacting the future of the Middle East, the United States, and Canada, among other places, it would be odd for Gellert to travel through Muggle areas, passing the sites of future concentration and extermination camps, and not have visions pertaining to the Holocaust.  
> It is also true that a foreknowledge of the Holocaust will contribute to Gellert’s feelings about Muggles and about the Statute of Secrecy, so – the Holocaust is going to come up again, as well as several other historical atrocities – this will be the only warning of this length, but I will do my best to remember to flag it each chapter that it comes up. 
> 
> Other historical notes: The astronomical data in this fic is 100% accurate – it is crazy easy to get down to the minute on moon phases and equinoxes and sunrises and so on for any place on any date.  
> Anything else is – more or less correct.  
> For instance, the train is – a plausible route, with plausible stops, travelling at a plausible speed: a direct route from Vienna to Danzig/Gdansk, with a stop in Thorn/Torun, traveling about 70mph, and passing very near the future site of Chelmno (a Nazi extermination camp north of Lodz.) It’s the best I can do with the available data.  
> There are lots of other things that I don’t know. Like what the weather actually was like in, say, Königsberg, on, let’s imagine, 5 March 1900, for instance. I am having to make shit up about real places, and that is driving me crazy. (Writing historical fiction was – probably a mistake for someone who tends towards the pedantic.) 
> 
> I’m doing my respectful best to be in the neighborhood of accurate when I can’t pin down the exact data.

Chapter 20  
February 1900 (continued)

While Albus was quick to tease Gellert about his enthusiasm for trains, in truth, he loved the expression on Gellert’s face as he watched the farm fields and forests and small towns pass by.  
They were not an hour out of Vienna when Gellert gestured out the window.  
“Albus! This is wondrous – look! The trees!”  
There was a field, sprinkled with a handful of patches of snow that would soon melt. Winter was ebbing, but Spring still felt far away. Beyond the field, perhaps 300 yards away, was a stand of bare trees. The sun was low behind them, veiled by a blanket of clouds. The sky was pale, the trees black and skeletal. Albus idly thought that he had never seen a Thestral, but he imagined that one day, when he did, it would remind him of these trees.  
“Yes,” said Albus, “they’re beautiful.”  
“Keep watching,” said Gellert. “The branches and the tree trunks – the shapes between them change as we move.”

Albus recognized the activity. Karen had talked about how artists would move side to side, up and down, until they found the perfect angle to look at something before beginning to draw or paint. “Perspective matters, Albus. Things look different depending upon where you stand.” Very often when she said things like this, she was meaning for Albus to take some art lesson she was giving him and apply it to life in general, which was perhaps the one annoying thing about Karen. But now her voice was in his head, and he couldn’t help thinking that this was in a way what he and Gellert were doing by travelling. Changing where they stood.  
Nevertheless, he did not see the appeal in the aesthetic application of this idea – watching the shapes between the tree branches shift, watching them disappear and reappear, watching the trees disappear to make way for buildings, then more trees. In this moment, Gellert was standing in a place that Albus could not. The world must look very different to him, sometimes.

“I wonder if you might have been an artist, if you hadn’t been a seer.”  
Gellert turned to Albus and smiled, “You think I could have been an artist?”  
“Certainly,” said Albus. “The way you notice the world around you, the way you look and keep looking, the way you think about shape and form and line and colour and texture. You should have been the one shadowing Karen through art museums.”  
“I _did_ shadow Karen through art museums.” He looked back out the window. “Just less often than you did.”

Gellert turning away from him seemed an indication that something was unsettling him.  
“Why do you say, ‘if I hadn’t been a seer’?”  
Ah. Yes, that had perhaps been the wrong thing to say. Bringing up Gellert’s gift was – something to be done with delicacy. Albus took some time gathering his thoughts. He reinforced the Notice Me Not before leaning forward to take hold of Gellert’s hand. Even in a private compartment, he felt more comfortable taking precautions.  
“Love, your parents… they forced you to hide your visions. You were told that they were unbecoming, that they were aberrant.”  
Albus sometimes felt that he would burn down the whole world if that was what it would take to erase Gellert’s father from existence.  
“You have had to hide your eyes, your genius, who you love... But the first thing that you learned to hide was your gift of Sight. Given this lifetime of being forced to hide nearly everything you are, it is no wonder that you have made it your life’s mission to no longer have to hide from anyone – in any part of the world, Magical or Muggle. I doubt that making art would have been enough for you.”

“So, you don’t think that I should have been an artist instead?”  
Oh no. Was Gellert thinking that Albus was wishing away his visions? Albus did wonder where they came from, and what their purpose was… Would they be going after the Elder Wand at all if Gellert had never had a vision of holding it? And he didn’t like how much pain some of Gellert’s visions seemed to cause him. But sometimes they gave him comfort, or pleasure, or insight – and in any case, they were integral to _who he was_. Albus couldn’t wish away any part of who Gellert was. He had fallen in love with Gellert exactly as he was.

Albus crossed the compartment to sit next to Gellert and laid his hand on Gellert’s thigh.  
“I love you. I want you to be who you need to be. Perhaps I am wrong – perhaps you would _rather_ be an artist. To me, you seem to be near compelled to work to end the Statute of Secrecy – and I love the way you burn with enthusiasm when you speak of it, and I love making plans with you and travelling with you, and persuading people of the truth of your ideas. But if you _wanted_ to change course completely, and use the Elder Wand to make the most extraordinary magical art – then I would support you in that too.”  
Gellert did not respond. What was he thinking about? Was he even listening?  
“Gellert –“ Albus touched his husband’s shoulder and waited until he turned to face Albus. Then Albus took both of Gellert’s hands in his and recited a line from their vows: “I will never deny you the liberty to be who you are.” 

He leaned forward and kissed Gellert tenderly, but it quickly deepened, until Gellert was climbing onto his lap. Albus looked nervously at the door.  
“Albus. I know that you have cast two Notice-Me-Nots, and a Colloportus, and a Silencing Charm… we are perfectly safe.” And without waiting for an answer, he threaded his hands into Albus’ hair, and resumed kissing him, even more urgently than before.  
It was not long before their clothes started coming off, and Albus did not give the door any more thought for some time.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Usually, it was not possible to tell that Gellert was having a vision. Their frequency meant that he had become so accustomed to having them that he would do no more than fix his eyes on a single point for slightly longer than was usual. He might be quieter afterwards, if it was particularly distressing, but much of the time even Albus couldn’t tell that he had had one.  
But that day in the train, Albus saw for the first time what could happen when Gellert had an unprecedented vision. They were both reading quietly as they pulled out of the Lodz station. Albus was laying down with his head in Gellert’s lap. He was exhausted. The trip was going to take all day: they had already been in the train for 9½ hours, and they still had 2½ hours left to go. Gellert was warm, and the train was humming, and the print in the book was small… Albus had almost dozed off when Gellert’s book dropped onto his head. 

“Hey!” Albus started, but there was no response. Gellert didn’t even flinch.  
Oh.  
Albus sat up slowly, rubbing his head. Sure enough, Gellert’s attention was fixed outside the window, his head and eyes unmoving. Albus crossed the compartment. It was good for Gellert to be able to see him when he came back, but it was better not to be touching him until he indicated he was ready.  
Albus waited. And waited. Gellert was out of touch with the present for much longer than usual – perhaps as much as two minutes. Albus was nervous about it, but there was really nothing he could do.

When Gellert finally came around, his head fell forward to lean against the window, and his breathing was unsteady. Albus ached to hold Gellert, but knew that he would only be comforting himself, so he held back. “The trains…” said Gellert weakly.  
He turned to look at Albus, his head still resting against the glass. “Vodka.”  
He wanted him to – go to the bar and get a glass of vodka?  
“Gellert, are you ok for me to leave you?”  
Gellert’s voice became harder, more impatient. “Vodka, Albus.”  
Albus sighed. He had never seen Gellert use alcohol to cope until the night of the ball, and now this made the second time in a week.  
“Yes, Love.”

It went against every instinct to walk away from Gellert when he was looking so terrible, but he went to the bar anyway. Better him than Gellert. Gellert might have come back with a bottle. But given Gellert’s tolerance, Albus figured he would be annoyed if Albus came back with only one glass, so he ordered two. As he walked back to their compartment, Albus was grateful for wandless magic – he didn’t know how he would have balanced the two slender glasses of vodka together with a cup of tea if he had been a Muggle.  
When he returned, Gellert was pacing, inasmuch as one could pace in their small compartment. He took the first glass from Albus and downed it all without taking a breath.  
“Better?” ventured Albus.  
“Not really,” answered Gellert, sitting heavily and running his hand through his hair. He reached out his hand for the second glass, and Albus handed it to him.  
Albus wasn’t sure what to do next, so he remained standing.

“Sit, Albus.”  
“Where, Love?”  
Gellert pointed across from him, then said, “You should have gotten yourself something stronger than tea.”  
It wasn’t that Albus had failed to think of it. He had been very close to ordering himself a beer, but he had been nearly asleep less than half an hour ago, and he wanted to be awake enough to be available to Gellert.  
In any case, it didn’t seem like an observation that called for an answer, so Albus sat in the place Gellert had indicated, sipped his tea, and waited for Gellert to speak.

Before ten minutes had passed, Gellert finished off his second vodka, then began speaking.  
“I have been seeing trains. Not like our trains. Train cars empty of all but people – sitting on the floor, standing. No light, no seats… just people – too many people crowded into the space.”  
“When?”  
“I first started seeing them on our way to Turin. I haven’t been in Muggle areas many times before you, and never on a train. It is true that I have been enjoying the view a great deal – that came first, and it still fascinates me. But after seeing one of these spare and crowded train cars – I had to know.”  
“But Gellert – “  
“Don’t say it, Albus. I know – I can’t make a vision happen. I know. But there was something… I can’t explain it. There was just something very wrong about those trains, and the fact that I was seeing them so often made them also seem important. It is rare that I see something so often, and it is always important. You, the Elder Wand, aeroplanes…”

“Aeroplanes? What are – ”  
Gellert looked up at Albus, for the first time since he had started speaking.  
“Right. I forgot I hadn’t – We can talk about aeroplanes later.” Gellert grimaced and looked out the window, and then quickly back down at his hands, as if the window had been rendered dangerous.  
Albus thought that maybe he did not want to hear about aeroplanes any more than he wanted to hear about whatever it was that had made Gellert upset enough to be avoiding train windows and leaning on alcohol in lieu of physical contact.

“There comes a point when I have had enough visions of something or someone that I know that I will not stop having visions about them. And in that case, I thought that it might be possible to – create favourable conditions.”  
Albus waited, but Gellert seemed to have hit a wall. Albus wasn’t quite sure how to help him through it, but Gellert’s reaction to his vision had been too dramatic for Albus to be content to wait for days.

“Did you find out? What you wanted to know?”  
“Yes. No. The Muggles. They kill each other…”  
Well, yes. Muggles killed each other, Wizards killed each other. That was just – the world.  
“The people in these trains. There will be thousands and thousands and thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands. Millions maybe.  
“The building we passed – it isn’t there yet, but it will be. There will be a building just for killing, for poisoning dozens of people at a time. And then their bodies will be taken to be burned – to become ash drifting up through chimneys into the sky. The people who are killed – they arrive in these trains.”

 _Millions_ burned? This was more than just Muggles killing each other – this was like nothing Albus had even ever thought of. This was like the Black Plague, if it had been started on purpose. Wait. Had it been started on purpose?  
Not the point. Now they were speaking of the future, not the past. 

Ash, Gellert had said… there had been ash in Gellert’s vision in Paris, and a pile of dead bodies…  
“Jews?” asked Albus. If so, these – Zionists? – were right to want to leave Europe, to make their own place far away. Albus was struck with fear, remembering the persecutions of Wizarding people over the centuries. Perhaps it was best to hide…  
“Jewish people, yes. Mostly Jewish people, and people with Jewish parents – them more than anyone else. But others too – so many others.”  
Gellert looked up from his hands. “People like us, Albus.”

“You mean Wizards?”  
Gellert sighed. “A handful of Wizards.” He looked towards the door of their compartment. “No, I meant men who love other men. Being burned – being reduced to ash for it.”  
Albus thought he understood at least one reason Gellert was hesitant to touch him right now.

“How is it possible? To kill hundreds of thousands of people in this one place?”  
“No, you misunderstand me. Thousands here, thousands elsewhere – these killing and burning buildings will be built in many places. In order to kill so many people in so short a time…”  
“How short?”  
“I don’t know.”  
“How do you know how many people…?”  
“ _I don’t know_ how I know Albus. I’ve told you _everything I know_.”

He had told Albus everything he _knew_ , but not everything he had seen – Albus was sure of it. Not everything he suspected either. What he had said so far was too abstract for Gellert to be drinking over it.  
“You saw it. Saw them dying.”  
Gellert closed his eyes.  
“So many of them – it looked like they were not expecting it, that they didn’t know what was going to happen when the door shut behind them. You would think it would be less bad, seeing someone die of poisoned air – less violent. But it is not. They are there, and then they are gone, Albus. Dozens at a time, over and over and over… it seemed endless. I don’t know how many I watched die – how many I watched fall. I don’t know how many I watched being piled up and then burned. Too many.  
“Muggles are – I don’t understand them – we Wizards have yet to invent something that could kill so many people so quickly.”

Certainly, if Wizards had ever had that capability, the knowledge had been lost. But Wizards had no motivation currently to develop such a thing. There were far fewer Wizards than Muggles, which meant killing one or five Wizards at a time was sufficiently impactful. In any case, Wizards tended to value magic enough to pause before killing even one Wizard – they needed a particularly compelling reason. Killing many Wizards at once, indiscriminately? There were simply too few Wizards in the world – it was unthinkable. Even the most rabid blood purist was unlikely to design a way to simply eradicate all Muggleborns rather than enslaving them, or experimenting on them to discover the source of their magic. Albus thought of his mother, and was glad that such things did not happen in England. 

This reminded Albus that, while something of the sort was likely going on in the region assigned to Durmstrang, Gellert and Albus as yet had no plan for discovering exactly what was happening to the Muggleborns. That was critical information. Albus wondered if one of their contacts knew, if they were involved somehow. He would have to wait for now. All of that was on hold at the moment.

Nevertheless, Albus couldn’t keep his mind from drifting. A Wizard might not kill other Wizards en masse, but if a Wizard got it into his head to kill Muggles… In such a case mass killing was entirely possible. Purebloods especially saw Muggles as so inferior that they might be entirely untroubled – even proud of doing away with so many people at once.  
But what would it take to kill thousands of people at once with magic? It was an interesting problem. Most spells were designed for killing people one at a time… 

“Albus…” Gellert growled impatiently.  
“Gods! Gellert, I’m sorry. I was listening, it’s just. This is a lot to process.”  
Gellert snorted.  
Right, ok. That had been the wrong thing to say. It was a lot for Gellert to process, too, obviously, and – fuck. Albus still hadn’t acknowledged how many deaths Gellert had seen. But what could he say?  
Gellert beat him to it. “A lot to process… you should have brought back some vodka for yourself, too.”

“I don’t think alcohol works quite the same way for me – “  
“I know it doesn’t. But we would both benefit from you shutting off your brain for a moment and just sitting here with me.”  
Oh. Well, fuck.  
They sat there in silence for a bit. Gellert didn’t seem particularly sorry about what he had said, and Albus didn’t need him to be. He had been right, really. An apology wouldn’t mean anything anyway. So the minutes ticked by.

Finally Albus found his voice – Gellert was in pain. That was the priority.  
“Love, what – is there anything I can do to – what do you need from me right now?”  
“Dreamless sleep?”  
Albus smiled sadly. He didn’t keep dreamless sleep on hand – it was addictive, and it didn’t mix with alcohol.  
“I don’t have any. Something else?”  
“I – just want this out of my head. It was awful, Albus. I’ve seen people die before –“ That was news to Albus.  
Gellert must have noticed Albus’ expression. “Not in person – in visions, many times. But I’ve never seen death like this. The erasure of so many people at once, whole families – children, Albus. And I am quite certain that I didn’t see it all. It’s – I don’t know how I am going to close my eyes without seeing –“  
Gellert broke off and looked back out the window.

Stars above. He wasn’t asking –  
“Do you – I would if you need me to, of course, but – you aren’t asking me to Obliviate you?”  
Gellert laughed bitterly. “Isn’t that tempting. No. My visions – we don’t know why –“ Gellert looked at Albus and almost smiled. “I want not to have had the vision at all, but now that I have, it seems wrong to erase it entirely.” He glanced out the window again. “Like those people were erased.” 

He looked down at the empty glass in his hands, and back up at Albus.  
“Another vodka?”  
“One more only, Love. We would get looks if I have to carry you off the train.”  
Gellert huffed. “That would take _at least_ four more.”  
If Gellert wanted four more, he could get them himself. Though Albus hoped he wouldn’t.  
“Nevertheless. I’ll get you _one_ more, and then we can try to think of another way to help you forget.”  
Gellert nodded reluctantly, and Albus got up to take the glasses back to the bar, and to pick up one more vodka.

Albus brought the drink back to the compartment, and when Gellert had emptied that glass as well, Albus said, “Tell me about Königsberg?”  
“Königsberg.”  
“Yes, Königsberg.” Albus did not elaborate.  
Gellert nodded, and after a moment he began telling Albus stories from his yearly trips to Königsberg for school supplies. Before long, he had crossed the compartment to lay with his head in Albus’ lap, still talking. Then he asked Albus to share stories about Diagon Alley, and they traded stories until they drew near Thorn. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus apparated into the room first, followed by Gellert.  
“He’s back!” exclaimed Gellert with a smile. “He’s finally back!”  
They had been keeping an eye on Gregorovitch’s shop for more than a week without a sign of Gregorovitch. Two days prior, Gellert had finally lost patience, and putting on a glamour, had walked into the shop. The Witch behind the counter had told him, “I can help you with accessories and polishing, Dearie, but if you want a wand, you’ll have to wait until Mr. Gregorovitch returns.”  
Gellert had involved her in helping him choose a holster as ‘a gift for a friend’, while engaging her in gossip. It seemed that Gregorovitch was travelling – acquiring wand wood. He didn’t buy it from dealers, but went directly to the source, observing the harvest. 

Gellert was pulled from his enthusiasm by the smell in the apartment. “We need to do something about the ventilation in here, Albus.”  
Albus held up one finger, and began moving from cauldron to cauldron, checking the smell and the colour of each one. He frowned at the third one, dropped in 3 Demiguise hairs, and stirred: two times clockwise, ½ counter-clockwise, two more times clockwise. Then he turned down the heat.  
Turning to Gellert, he said, “Ventilation. Absolutely.” He held out his hand above the cauldrons and made a pinching gesture. The gases that had accumulated disappeared.  
“I siphon off the fumes whenever I remember… Perhaps you could help me come up with a spell that would be removing the fumes constantly, without me needing to reset it? And without troubling the surface of the potions at all? I don’t want to create a breeze.”

Gellert laughed. “You are perfect. I love you so much! I hope that you are like this always.” He took Albus into his arms and kissed his neck. Then he pulled away. “Show me your work.”  
All of the potions were doing well. So well that Albus was finally ready to share the experiments he had been working on.  
“Okay. So this first cauldron, I started two days after we arrived – I prepared the lacewings and the medium just as suggested by the recipe.  
“This second one and all the others, I started the day we arrived. This one I’m also brewing by the book.  
“I started the third one in the usual way, but today I reduced the heat and added a few Demiguise hairs – I think it will give a better result.  
“For this fourth one, I separated the wings from the bodies – I started with the wings only, and just added the bodies yesterday. I had it on higher heat when it was just the wings, but turned the heat down before adding the bodies. I have always suspected that they reach optimum potency at different rates. This seems like a good time to try. Perhaps it won’t make a difference, but I’m hoping that the effects of the potion will last longer.”

Albus became excited as he reached to last simmering potion. He had been afraid that it wouldn’t work, but it looked like this could be a breakthrough – a marketable breakthrough.  
“This fifth cauldron… I’ve had an idea for a while, and I hadn’t had the opportunity to try it until now.  
I had been intending to make a batch of Polyjuice this summer, but I didn’t have the opportunity to pick up the Boomslang skin. But I had already started stewing the Lacewings, and I didn’t want to waste them, so – I reduced them to a paste, then I spread the paste on some parchment, and when the paste dried, I ground it into a powder. Pre-stewed lacewings!”  
“That was the step that takes 21 days, correct? How much time have you shaved off?”  
“Well – I can’t be sure that I’ve shaved off any yet. It might not work.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes. “Yes, Albus. But you wouldn’t be telling me unless there was a good chance that it will work, so - ?”  
“Given the appearance of the base right now? I could have bought us as much as six days.”  
“Six – Albus! The moon will be just barely past new then! That would be brilliant!”

Albus looked at his feet. “Brilliant…”  
“Albus?”  
“Gregorovitch only just returned. We still don’t know where he is keeping the Wand.”  
“Well, it seems we still have ten days to figure that out.”  
Ten days. In ten days, they would be breaking into – somewhere, and stealing one of the most dangerous magical objects in Wizarding history. An object that would possibly talk to his husband and begin driving him insane. Albus was – less than enthused. The closer they got to the Wand, the less comfortable he became with the whole enterprise.  
But at least part one of the plan – keeping their identities hidden – was well in hand.  
“Right. Plenty of time. Well, I’m done here for the next few hours. Let’s go eat.”  
Gellert looked at Albus carefully for a few moments, but he didn’t pry. Albus was glad. He wasn’t sure how Gellert would react if he knew that Albus was steeling himself for the possibility of having to destroy the Wand.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus woke in the early morning hours, just before dawn. He rolled over and reached for Gellert – but the bed was empty and cold. How long ago had he gotten out of bed? Was he even still here?  
Albus conjured an orb of light. It was dim, but it still hurt his eyes.  
There he was – sitting in a chair, looking out the window. Albus came over and sat in Gellert’s lap. Gellert wrapped his arms around Albus reflexively.  
“Another dream?”  
Gellert didn’t answer.

“Love, we still haven’t talked about it, what happened on the train.”  
“We haven’t talked about a lot of things.”  
“Gellert.”  
“Are you going to sit on my lap and bully me?”  
Albus sighed. If Gellert didn’t want to talk about it now, he could wait.

“What are you looking at?”  
“The moon. It looks so far away. But one day, the Muggles… It doesn’t matter. I am thinking about how tangled everything is. How bad comes from good, and good comes from bad. And I am wishing that I weren’t tempted in a way unlike any other Wizard I have met.”  
“Tempted?”  
“To try to change the future.”  
“We all try to change the future.”  
“But most do it from a place of no knowledge, and with a hubristic lack of concern for the complexity of the system. They are just blindly thinking that they are working for good – the good of themselves, or their families, or their friends, or their countries. The good of the Wizarding world… some good or another. And they are so focused on that one good, that they are blissfully blind to how they might be working to the detriment of all others.”

Albus thought about this.  
“That is why we need to be at the head of this. Because of your visions, because of our understanding of the complexity of it all. We will work for The Greater Good. For the good of all – not just a single good.”  
“The Greater Good. And you accuse me of sounding grandiose.”  
“It is no less grand than ‘we must prevent the Muggles from destroying us all.’ It is just – another way of saying that maybe.”  
“For the Greater Good?”  
“For the Greater Good.”

Gellert sighed. “Right now, I would be satisfied with ‘for a night without dreams of death.’”  
Albus smiled with his mouth, but his eyes were sad. “I wish I could give you that, Liebling. But – maybe something else?”  
He stood and then pulled Gellert up to standing as well. He untied Gellert’s dressing gown, and pushed it off his shoulders so that it pooled around his feet on the floor. Albus stepped back to gaze at his husband. His skin and hair glowed in the dim light Albus had conjured. “You take my breath away. Every time.”  
Gellert closed the distance between them and placed his hands on Albus’ hips. One hand drifted to Albus’ back and traced up his spine. His kisses were slow, worshipful – sleepy.  
Albus ran a hand through Gellert’s hair. “Come to bed, Love?”

He took Gellert’s hand, and led him to bed, directing him to lay on his belly.  
Albus straddled Gellert’s lower back. “I’m not sure I’ll be very good at this, but…”  
Albus began with a scalp massage. After a while, his hands drifted down to attend to Gellert’s neck. He continued on in that way, kneading Gellert’s shoulders, then rubbing his back. Albus loved the feeling of Gellert's warm skin, of the muscles in his back - but those muscles felt too tight right now - too hard. Maybe that was keeping Gellert from sleeping. Albus dropped kisses down the valley of Gellert’s spine, pulling a moan from him. He shifted so that he was straddling Gellert’s thighs so that he could kneading Gellert’s arse, loosen the muscles there too.  
This was becoming very arousing, but Albus tried to ignore that - it was much more important for Gellert to get some sleep - he looked exhausted.  
“Sleepy?” asked Albus.  
“Not too sleepy to want you inside of me,” Gellert murmured.  
Hmmm... Well, if Gellert wanted it too...

Albus pulled off his night shirt. He slid further down and gently spread the cheeks of Gellert's arse just enough to begin circling his pucker with his tongue. Gellert groaned.  
Albus’ tongue began gently prodding at the hole without yet entering. He was going to take his time preparing Gellert, then he was going to enter him as slowly as he could bear. He didn’t want to miss a thing – he was going to catalogue every sensation. He was going to give Gellert something better to dream about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks are due to 50kolorowyKameleon -  
> Without them, I would have been talking about Poland entirely too much in the next several chapters, but they have done their level best to educate me about the Partition of Poland, and other parts of the _very_ complicated history of Poland, so now I know that no Muggles Gellert and Albus encountered would have been living in Poland, properly speaking (Torun, Königsberg, and Danzig were all Prussia – so, the German Empire. Lodz was under the jurisdiction of the Russian Empire.) (If I’m screwing any of this up, 50kolorowyKameleon is not to blame – any error in these matters is down to me.)
> 
> And finally – I am aware of the instructions for creating Polyjuice Potion that JKR gives us on Pottermore. The thing is, that recipe contradicts the account of what Hermione and Ron (Ron often gets too little credit, generally speaking) actually did as given in chapters eleven and twelve of _Chamber of Secrets_. (I haven’t seen the movie in too long to remember if that lines up with Pottermore, or the book, or offers some third version.) Taking the inconsistencies in canon together with what we know from _Half-Blood Prince_ of potions recipes sometimes benefiting from being modified… I figure that I have a bit of wiggle room here.


	23. To See and Be Seen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual:  
> "Speaking out loud"  
> 'Everything else' - mostly speaking via Legilimency, but not limited to that
> 
> There is way more bedroom German in here than ever before. (LOL – Accidentally typed ‘Germoan’ at first – kinda accurate, as far as Gellert is concerned.)  
> Ich liebe dich – I love you  
> Ich brauch dich – I need you  
> Du gehörst mir – Essentially, ‘You’re mine’ – but literally ‘You belong to me’  
> Komm für mich – Come for me  
> Aufs Bett mit dir – A playful ‘come to bed/get on the bed’ – Literally ‘On the bed with you’  
> Now that Albus knows how much him speaking German turns Gellert on, we'll be seeing more of it.

Chapter 21  
March 1900

The street outside was quiet. It was late – Gellert was still out on surveillance in Königsberg, and Albus couldn’t sleep. He didn’t like it when they went separately. But Gellert thought that a raven was less conspicuous than a barn owl, and while Albus wasn’t sure he agreed (it was a Wizarding area after all), he did agree that a raven and a barn owl would look odd if seen _together_. 

He began to wonder – how was it that Wizards and Witches’ Animagus forms were appropriate to where they lived? Was it about animals they were familiar with? Was it linked to where they were when they gained the form? If Albus had first become an Animagus in Australia, might he have been a koala? A giraffe in Central Africa? Or would he have still been a lynx, because he was from Europe? Come to think of it, how was he a lynx at all? There hadn’t been lynx in Britain for hundreds of years... But he hadn’t known that when he became an Animagus – did that make a difference?

These thoughts were enough to occupy him for some time, but not long enough. Gellert had still not arrived, and Albus became more and more certain that something terrible had happened to him.  
He got up to check on the potions, and then returned to the desk to re-read Gellert’s Elder Wand notes by the light of an oil lamp. He picked up his teacup, and set it back down without drinking anything. He didn’t want tea, he wanted comfort – and the tea wasn’t providing that any longer. 

There was a tapping at the window. Albus looked up to see Gellert. He opened the window, and Gellert flew in – transforming back into his human body without first landing. Albus was transfixed – Gellert had gotten a great deal better at transitioning, until the change was nearly perfect, beautiful. He set down the scroll and stood up to greet his husband... who was walking away from him, straight towards the glowing embers in the fireplace.  
Gellert uttered an Incendio to get the fire going again.  
“Fuck, it’s cold.”  
Oh! The window was still open. Albus had been so busy staring at Gellert...  
Albus shut the window, drew the drapes, and cast a light warming charm.

Gellert turned around to look at Albus, and Albus hurried to him, pulling Gellert tightly to him and kissing him as if they hadn’t seen one another in years. Albus pulled back just far enough to meet Gellert’s eyes, pushing his thoughts:  
‘I was worried... you were gone so long... What happened?... Are you ok?... Why didn't you apparate in?... Did you fly all the way here?... I’m so glad you’re safe... Gods! Still too far from me...’  
Then Albus broke eye contact to pull Gellert in closer and kiss him once more, long and deep and slow.  
Albus began unbuttoning Gellert’s coat, but Gellert grabbed both of his hands, stilling them. “You worry too much, Albus. I’m _never_ going to leave you. Never.”  
Never going to leave him… Gellert was his - forever. For the moment, it did not matter to Albus exactly how Gellert meant to ensure that – all that was important was how it felt to be bathed in the intensity of Gellert’s desire. 

With his hands still in Gellert’s, Albus simply vanished all of Gellert’s clothing. Gellert released his hands, and Albus dropped to his knees.  
“Wait,” said Gellert, and Albus looked up at him.  
“Gods, you’re beautiful, Albus. I love you so much.”  
Albus sucked on Gellert’s balls for a moment, and then asked, “So – you wanted me to wait so that you could tell me that you love me?”  
“What? Oh. No – I just got distracted – your face looking up at me like that, so – there’s not a word for it – no – I wanted to say, if you truly need your mouth on my cock –“ Albus took that as a request.  
“Aaaah! No, I’m saying –“  
Albus stopped and looked up again. “No?”  
“Not no, but –“  
Albus’ mouth sank onto Gellert again.  
“Alll-buuus! I – yes, there – but – I – “

“Sorry, Love, you were saying?” Albus was looking up at Gellert in a mockery of innocence.  
“I – want to come _with you_ first. Can you – not make me come with your mouth right now?”  
“Are you saying you want me inside you, Gellert?” Albus asked, still not getting up. He cast a quick lubricating charm and dragged a finger lightly over Gellert’s pucker, around and around, before slowly pushing it inside as his tongue lapped at Gellert’s balls.  
Gellert reached down and grabbed onto Albus’ shoulders, and squeezed so tightly it was almost painful. Yes… Rough sounded good.  
Albus removed his finger and looked up once more. “Or were you wanting to throw me on the floor, and –“  
“You know what I want!”  
Albus did know – had known as soon as Gellert said ‘with you.’ Legilimency sex. It wasn’t going to matter to Gellert who was in who, as long as they were both in each other’s minds.

In a burst of wandless magic, Gellert pulled Albus up and threw him onto the bed.  
Albus was not sure whether being thrown onto the bed like that ought to be arousing or not, but it certainly had been. It had been unexpected, and the force with which he impacted the bed sent the message that Gellert had switched the power dynamic in an instant - Albus was at Gellert's mercy. It was thrilling - almost exciting enough for him to forget about the limits he needed to set. Almost.  
“Gellert, we aren’t ready –“  
Albus had caved, as was inevitable – he was no longer insisting on never having sex with legilimency again, instead adding the requirement that they could only do it with some safeguard in place that prevented feedback – feeling Gellert’s feelings was fine, but if he also was feeling Gellert feeling his feelings, and feeling Gellert feeling him feeling Gellert feeling his feelings... and so on... _That_ was what had caused the problems, in Albus’ opinion, and neither of them had yet figured out how to prevent that.

Gellert leapt onto the bed and sat astride Albus’ chest, pinning down his arms in the process.  
Albus lifted up his head, then growled in frustration.  
“You are not close enough for me to reach your cock, Gellert,” he scolded. It was tantalisingly close – long and hard and perfect.  
“I know,” smiled Gellert. “Your mouth can’t have me right now. I want to be able to look in your eyes...”  
“Gellert, I said –“

“I know what you said. I agree. But there is nothing to stop _one of us_ from doing it. You look. If I don’t look too, then no feedback. Easy. Please, Albus. I want you to see how much I love you, need you – I want you to feel the stretch I feel as your cock pushes into me. Let me show you.”  
Albus looked Gellert in the eyes, and entering Gellert’s mind, he was hit by a tidal wave of need so strong that he would have fallen over if he hadn’t already been lying down.  
“Yes,” Albus whispered. “But you – it’s your turn tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, the next day... it’s not important. Tonight - first, I am going to wrap my lips around your cock, because my mouth is so hungry for you, but then I am going to want you inside me – body and mind.”  
“Yes,” Albus repeated. “Yes - Ich liebe dich.”  
Gellert bit his lip and closed his eyes before swinging his leg over Albus, so that he was kneeling beside him.  
“I love you, too, Albus.”

Gellert bent down and kissed him before sliding down between Albus’ legs, where he proceeded take Albus in his mouth and tease him, languidly sliding down the length of him, and sliding back up, again and again, swirling his tongue slowly. Albus began groaning, and Gellert stopped. He crawled back up, kissing Albus on his belly, his chest, his neck, his mouth.  
He lifted his head and met Albus’ eyes. “Now.”  
Albus slipped into Gellert’s mind, and felt Gellert’s impatience, his hunger. He felt Gellert push a thought towards him: ‘I need your fingers – make me ready for you.’

Albus felt Gellert’s anticipation and Albus renewed the lubrication charm. He pressed in one finger, and along with Gellert’s heat on his finger, he felt Gellert’s sense of satisfaction, welcoming the familiar intrusion. Albus added a second finger and quickly found Gellert’s prostate using Gellert’s own sensations as a guide. Gellert moaned as Albus pressed hard against the spot, and Albus moaned too. He alternated circling that spot and pressing it, and he felt Gellert’s blissful agony, his throbbing, his growing impatience. He separated his fingers, in order to increase the stretch, and then added a third.  
‘Enough! Your cock – I need your cock – please!’  
“Mmm. Yes, Love, me too. Ich brauch dich.”

Albus felt suddenly intoxicated, and realized that this was Gellert’s reaction to him speaking German to him.  
“Oh!” said Albus.  
“Yes, oh,” laughed Gellert out loud. “You didn’t know?”  
“I knew you liked it, but this…”

Gellert’s thoughts flowed rapidly as he slowly lowered himself onto Albus’ cock.  
‘So perfect. Always want Albus. Need Albus. Gods so beautiful. Mine – Mine... Want – fuck – yes – I love you!’  
Albus bucked up into him and growled, “Yes – I’m yours and you’re mine." The stream of Gellert's thoughts and emotions were as intense as the sensations Albus was producing in his body. Albus knew Gellert loved him, but this... "Du gehörst mir, Gellert Grindelwald.”  
Albus felt the reaction in Gellert’s cock, the explosion in Gellert’s brain. He needed to speak German to Gellert more often.

He was awash in Gellert’s devotion, his love, his amazement, and overwhelmed by the joint sensations of his cock in Gellert’s arse, and Gellert’s arse stretching around his cock – there was no distinction, no line separating him from Gellert. He felt each burst of arousal as he dug his nails into Gellert’s hips, as he pinched Gellert’s nipple, as he trailed his fingers down Gellert’s chest. All of it taken together with the sight of his gorgeous husband – husband! Fuck! He was married to this man! – the sight of this amazing man riding him, the feel of Gellert’s tight arse squeezing his cock... it was all too much. He was going to come, and Gellert wasn’t close enough to join him.  
He wrapped his hand around Gellert’s cock and began stroking him. “Komm für mich.”  
Albus was overwhelmed with sensation as Gellert shouted and shot come all over Albus’ chest, neck, chin. Gellert’s orgasm, his own orgasm – Albus was reeling. And overcome that Gellert had given him this gift of himself – his mind, his body, his love.  
‘You are amazing – I love you.’  
“I love you, too – so much. Gods, Gellert – come here.”

Gellert eased himself up just enough for Albus to slip out, and then bent down to kiss Albus.  
“Good, Liebling?”  
“Mmmm – so good.”  
Gellert lay down on Albus supporting himself just enough to allow Albus to breathe. Albus was entirely limp. He couldn’t move his arms, his legs…  
“Gods… gods… that was… fuck… outstanding…”  
Gellert propped himself up a bit more and looked down at Albus. “I love you.”  
Albus smiled sleepily. “I know – I felt it. You know I love you right? I - love might be too small a word to contain it. You are - yes.”  
“My heart, my everything, I think that it is time for you to sleep.”  
“Ok,” said Albus agreeably, and drifted off immediately. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus was the first to wake in the morning. This was awkward when Gellert was holding him, because he felt a bit trapped. It was not easy to untangle himself. He waited for a few minutes. Then he tried to pull away, but Gellert just tightened his hold. Luckily, Albus had learned a trick for this in the past few weeks – he ran a finger along Gellert’s inner forearm, and Gellert grunted indignantly, jerking his arm away just long enough for Albus to escape his hold - all without waking up.  
Gellert had still not woken up when Albus returned to bed with a book and a cup of tea for each of them. He had read about 20 pages when Gellert finally started to move, groaning and blindly reaching for Albus.

“Good morning, Angel. I have tea for you.”  
“No tea,” Gellert grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head.  
“Ok, Love," Albus said, amused. Gellert was so often a wreck in the morning.  
Albus was settling in for a drawn out waking, when Gellert suddenly tossed his pillow, revealing wide open eyes. The way he popped up would have been alarming if it wasn't so comical in it's theatricality.  
“Albus! What time is it?”  
“You can cast a Tempus as well as I can – all I know is that the sun has been up maybe 30 minutes. Why?”  
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night – I had wanted to make some observational notes.”  
“So you learned something in Königsberg last night – something important.”  
“Yes, finally – that’s why I was gone so long.’ 

When Gregorovitch had returned from collecting wand woods, Albus and Gellert had discovered that he was conscientious about privacy, always closing the shutters in his workshop and the apartment above the shop. All they had learned was that Gregorovitch visited his workshop at odd hours, that he was usually in bed before 11pm – but sometimes stayed up much later, that he was always up just after sunrise, that he rarely left (his wife did all of the shopping and other errands, apparently – aside from his annual wood harvesting journey), and that the Wand did not appear to be in his shop. Which likely left his private quarters or the workshop – not enough information to act on.  
Gellert was becoming increasingly frustrated with their lack of progress.

Gellert got up and pulled on a dressing gown before making his way to the desk. Albus pulled on a nightshirt and followed him, transfiguring the coal scuttle into a matching chair so that he could sit beside Gellert.  
“You’re planning to look over my shoulder as I write?”  
“I’m planning on nibbling on your shoulder as you write.”  
Gellert laughed. “No, you’re not. You want to know what I’ve learned too badly to distract me.”  
It was true. Also, it was clear that Gellert did not wish to be distracted.

“So? Tell me.”  
“Gregorovitch was in his workshop with the shutters open, and I was able to sit outside the window and watch him. He is using the Wand in the construction of other wands.”  
Albus pulled Gellert in for a kiss. “That’s amazing, Love! You did it!”  
Albus was excited at the breakthrough, but also a bit jealous. He had never seen anyone create a wand before. He wondered how it was done. Perhaps Gellert would show him the memory later? He also wondered if Gregorovitch had always used a wand as part of the process, and if the Elder Wand added something to the wands made with it – extra power? Durability? Or did it simply speed up the process? He would have liked to have been there.

“I was lucky, is all. Now I have no reason to continue working on developing that charm to look through solid objects.”  
Gellert sounded almost disappointed, but Albus was sure that he really was not. Yes, Gellert loved creating new magic, but he was bound to be pleased about spotting Gregorovitch using the Wand.  
“I imagine we will still need your spell, Gellert. If you just got lucky, as you said, then it is possible that the shutters will be closed next time.”  
Come to think of it, why had the shutters been open this time?

“I saw where he keeps the Wand – he doesn’t keep it with him at all times, it seems. Instead, he keeps it in the workshop, in a warded case on a shelf. I was there when he entered his workshop and there when he left, so I think we can safely assume that the Wand is always there when he is not.”  
“But his hours remain irregular.”  
Gellert sighed. “Yes, that is the hardest part of this whole endeavour. There is no way to guarantee that we will arrive when he is not in his workshop.”  
“Isn’t there? Can’t we just sit there as birds and watch?”  
“Tonight, when he left his workshop, I remained to gather my thoughts. He returned not ten minutes after he had left. He is completely unpredictable.”

“Perhaps - perhaps it is better if he _is_ in the workshop.”  
“What?!” It was no wonder that Gellert sounded surprised – this went against Albus’ original cautious plan.  
“Well – first of all, we don’t know what kinds of wards he has on that case, or how long it would take to remove them.”  
“It took him less than five minutes.”  
“But five minutes is a long time –“  
“For someone who knows exactly what they are and how to take them down. True.”  
“Did you see?”  
“A Caterwauling charm, but otherwise – they were customized – I didn’t recognize them.”

“Right – so if he is in the workshop, the Wand is out of the case. And – we need to find him at some point to defeat him anyway – so better for him to be right there.”  
“But if he is holding the Wand...”  
“But what if he is not? He lays down the Wand on the workbench, we take it and use it to – hex or curse him or whatever.”  
Gellert grinned. “This sounds more like one of my plans, Schatz.”  
“Yes, I suppose you are rubbing off on me.”  
“We could do that too, later.”  
Albus blushed. Gellert could still make him blush, when he stumbled into an innuendo without thinking.

“Have you seen anything yet about us taking the Wand?“  
“Still no. Not that I haven’t had any visions while there, but nothing helpful. For instance, I can tell you the likely bestselling German language books of 1907. And there is a young Durmstrang student who is going to stub his toe on a raised cobblestone at some point. Which is a complete waste of a vision – someone trips on that slipshod pavement several times a week.  
“How about you? Any progress?”

“The experimental batch of Polyjuice looks perfect so far, and will be ready by the end of the day tomorrow, I think. I have several small envelopes of Muggle hair that I collected in Zagreb and Prague and Vienna. And Venice. Genoa too, come to think of it...”  
“You’ve been collecting Muggle hair all along?”  
And Wizard hair, but probably best not to mention that. At least - not now.  
“It’s very useful to have a variety. For instance, I will be needing one identity when breaking in to Gregorovitch’s workshop, but another for boarding the boat to Danzig... I won’t be able to use either of those again.”

"I think we should apparate to Danzig... but you could use that second identity to test the strength of your potion.”  
“I hadn’t thought of that, Gellert! You’re right – it would be best to know exactly how long the potion will be effective, and what the correct dose is... You don’t mind the extra day?”  
“No – we’ve waited so long for you to brew it – it would be time wasted or worse if it doesn’t work in the way you think it will.”  
That was true. Especially with this experimental batch – what if it didn’t work at all? How could Albus have forgotten? “Better together,” he whispered.

“What was that Liebling?” Gellert asked.  
“You – we think better as a team.”  
Gellert climbed onto Albus’ lap. “Mmm. Yes, we do.”  
Albus tucked a lock of hair behind Gellert’s ear. “I love you, Gellert.”  
“I love you too, Albus.” Gellert kissed him lightly on the mouth, then on the nose.  
Then Gellert murmured, “Better together… We had always said we would attack him in his private quarters, late in the night, when he was drowsy. In his workshop, even if we have the Elder Wand, he would be alert and surrounded by wands.”  
“Not his wand though.”  
“We don’t know that – he might have his old wand there. And in any case, they are _all_ his wands – he has created them. Until they are bound to their new master, they answer to him.”  
That was fascinating.  
“We will have to be fast. Disillusioned maybe.”  
“We will need to open the shutter without him noticing somehow? That seems difficult.”  
“We will need to double-check the wards he has put on the room himself. Catalogue them, so that we will know for certain what we will need to do to get in undetected.”

“That will be your task. I do not sense magic the way you do.”  
Albus was confused. “You said in Turin that my magic –“  
“Well, yes – I can sense _your_ magic – but I am not connected to anyone else the way that I am connected to you.”  
Oh. Oh! Albus looked Gellert in the eyes and Gellert nodded. Albus entered Gellert’s mind, and felt with him the feeling of Albus entering a room, his warm and familiar magic reaching out for Gellert, caressing him. Albus withdrew from Gellert’s mind. He leaned forward, and licked Gellert’s ear, then whispered, “Even my magic knows that you belong to me.”  
They kissed, with such ferocity that Albus knew they were done for now.  
Albus whispered playfully in Gellert’s ear, “Aufs Bett mit dir.”  
Gellert moaned and kissed Albus some more before carrying him back to bed.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The morning after the first batch of Polyjuice had been decanted, Albus woke early. When Gellert woke, Albus had already been up for more than an hour, sitting with his back against the headboard and thinking.

Gellert stretched and rolled on his side.  
“Liebling, what has you up early? What are you thinking about?”  
“I – not on an empty stomach, Gellert.”  
Gellert held out his hand, and a couple of apples shot across the room towards him. Once he had placed them on the bed, he received a plate of pastries in the same manner. He bit into one of the apples.  
“There. Breakfast. Come on, Albus. You know you can tell me.”

“Today I’m testing the Polyjuice, and – Gellert, why are we doing this? We go to collect the Elder Wand in tomorrow, and –”  
“You know why, Albus. So that we can –“  
“Always be together. I know. But there’s more, isn’t there?”  
Gellert paused. “You aren’t eating your pastry.”

Albus thought he knew why Gellert was avoiding the question. If he said ‘no,’ he would break the Honesty vow and bleed. If he said ‘yes,’ Albus would ask to know more.  
“Gellert – you don’t need to tell me all of your reasons. Not now.” Although this was quite enlightening, after Gellert’s impassioned call for Albus to trust him more.  
“But tell me at least yes or no – Do you want the Wand for reasons other than that it is one of the Hallows? Other than being the Master of Death?”  
Gellert sighed. “Yes.”  
“And do you want immortality for reasons other than being with me forever?”  
Gellert didn’t say anything for a while, but Albus was willing to wait.  
“I don’t know.”  
Good enough.

“I have been wondering if it is better for us not to take the Wand. You had the Wand in the vision. Maybe if you don’t have the Wand, it doesn’t come true.”  
“I have thought of this – and it does seem like a risk. If the Wand can speak to its Master, who knows what it might say? Who knows how it might poison me?”  
“So why –“  
Gellert reached out and took Albus’ hand. “Albus, it has been perfectly obvious that you don’t trust this Wand. I should have told you sooner that I believe that you are right not to trust it.  
“But I have a way to guarantee that I am not the Wand’s only master. I’ve developed a ritual which will allow the Wand to recognize the both of us as its masters. But it must be performed on the Spring Equinox – which is why I am so insistent on getting it now. I don’t want to wait, because I don’t know what the consequences will be of me holding the Wand for a year by myself.”  
“You mean, you don’t know if you would be able to share it, if you held it for too long without me.”  
Suddenly Albus felt a bit cold. Gellert did not take these rituals lightly, and constructing this one must have taken a great deal of time - it was likely that he had to have developed it completely from scratch. They had learned of the Wand’s location less than two months ago - he had been planning this – for how long? Since meeting Albus? Since _before_ meeting Albus?

“So – one of your reasons for wanting the Elder Wand is that you think you need to have it so that you can bind it to both of us so that you can keep us from dueling one another with it?”  
Gellert stood. He pushed his hair back and gripped it tightly in one hand, began pacing.  
“Yes. Yes, I thought it might protect us to have it – to hold it together. And the visions I’ve had since we have been together – of us holding the Wand together? In some of those we are much older than we were in my vision of the duel. So that seems to indicate an alternate future. There’s a future where I hold the Wand alone, and you duel me – the future I saw as a child. But there’s another future where we hold the Wand together and we grow old together.”  
Growing old together seemed to suggest not becoming immortal. But Albus didn’t say so. He was learning that the future was muddy in any case. 

“Gellert. How long have you been working on this plan?”  
Gellert looked embarrassed. “Three years? I had the idea that if I bound myself and my opponent to the Wand – if the Wand belonged to both of us – then neither of us could duel the other with it.”  
“Three years. Three years.”  
Did Albus know Gellert at all? Yes – yes and no. Albus had seen Gellert’s words and actions – he had seen Gellert’s thoughts. He knew so many things for certain about Gellert – and there was no question that Gellert loved him. But their different abilities made them see the world very differently. Albus had filled in every blank, answered every mystery about Gellert with an answer that would have made sense if Gellert were Albus. But he wasn’t. 

“I’m still learning what it means for you to see the future.”  
Gellert stopped pacing and turned to look at Albus. “I don’t see the future, Liebling. I see a handful of fragments of possible futures. That is very different.”  
“Still, no one else would know to – Gellert, making a plan to share the Wand before you had ever met me – before you knew who your mysterious opponent was… That’s – “  
“That’s extraordinary even for me Albus. I don’t usually – respond to my visions with such – determination. Being a Seer doesn’t give me certainty, just a different set of uncertainties. I have seen myself die half a dozen different ways. I see at least one future act of violence in every town I visit. I can’t live my whole life trying to avoid every possible negative outcome – it would drive me mad. But some outcomes – they seem too terrible. To be killed by someone I cared about – someone who cared about me…  
“But it is dangerous, fighting the future. It is possible to accidentally trigger a future I’ve seen by trying to prevent it. I have more than ten years of practice living with this, and there are so many pitfalls.”  
Yes, and how many pitfalls had Gellert still not discovered? 

Albus gathered his thoughts while Gellert waited silently.  
“So – ten years. Perhaps I will be thinking differently too, with ten years of practice.”  
Gellert gripped the foot of the bed with both hands. “Ten years… Albus, I’m _always_ going to seem strange to you, think differently than you do. You still want me – like this? You aren’t scared of - ?”  
Albus answered, “I’m always going to want you. Always. If I weren't sure of that, I wouldn't have married you, Gellert,” and he motioned for Gellert to join him in bed.  
Gellert came back to bed, uncertainty in his eyes. Albus hated to see Gellert so cautious. His only consolation was that he was not the one who had broken him so – and Albus hoped that, with time, Gellert would learn to trust that he was lovable – not just his public persona, but his whole self, Seer abilities and all.

Once Albus had his arm around Gellert, Albus pulled Gellert’s head against his chest and told him, “For someone so brilliant, you are a complete idiot. You are the only one that I want. Forever and always. I love you so much – you’re so intelligent, so adventurous, so handsome and charismatic. And the sex –“ Albus bit his lip. He became a bit distracted, thinking about the night Gellert had returned from Königsberg.  
“Mmm. Yes, and the sex,” acknowledged Gellert, with a small laugh. “It does make sense that you would keep me around for the sex.”  
“Gellert! I’m serious. I want to share everything with you, see everything with you, be with you all the time. Your visions – me not understanding what it means for you, how that has shaped you – that doesn’t scare me, so much as it reminds me that I need to ask more questions. This morning – I know now that being a Seer is such a part of you that there is nothing you do that is left untouched by your visions. To the point that it probably doesn’t even occur to you, sometimes, what I might need explained to me.”

“But from now on,” Albus continued, “I want to hear about your visions – visions about you, or me, or you and me, visions that frighten you, visions that will help us understand how to break this Statute. I don’t suppose I need to hear every ‘boy stubs his toe’ vision. Then again... it might be nice, sometimes, to be reminded of how many more mundane visions there are... I understand you can’t tell me every vision you’ve ever had, but…”  
“I hope you do understand that Albus, because I truly can’t. Even just visions of you – I have had dozens more since meeting you. So even if you just said, ‘tell me every vision you’ve ever had of me’ – we could do nothing else all day, and I might not reach the end of them. And I keep having more – we might never catch up. But yes, I will start telling you more. And I will tell you about new visions as I have them, as much as is practical. And I will always answer your questions.”

Knowing now about the ritual with the Elder Wand, Albus couldn’t stop wondering…  
“Gellert, I need to know – how long ago did you start planning for our Blood Pact?”  
Gellert squeezed Albus’ hand. “Liebling, look at me.”  
They both turned so that they were sitting facing one another, legs folded.  
“I told you the truth, Albus. It was just after my birthday, this past July.”  
“But – you said you had been in love with me since you were 13.”  
Gellert grinned, “No I’ve lusted after you since I was 13. It took a few more visions for me to fall in love with you – I was 14, probably.”

“Probably?”  
“I was in love with you for a while before I could admit it to myself. It is rather strange and difficult to love someone you might never meet. It is something even beyond unrequited love.”  
Now that Albus thought of it, that had to be true.  
“So that’s why –“  
“So that’s why. No matter how much I wanted you, it would have been going too far to make plans to marry you if I didn’t know if I would meet you, and when, and how you would feel about me… It would have been excruciating to make such plans and always be waiting to meet you, futilely.”  
Albus smiled ruefully, “So I was basically just frigging material.”  
Gellert laughed. “I won’t deny that you occupied my thoughts often, including when I was… alone, yes.”  
If it had been anyone else, Albus would have found that creepy. But that Gellert had been thinking of him in this way for so many years… Albus was overwhelmed.

But that did not mean that he did not still have questions.  
“But – you knew I was important. Because of how many visions you had had of me.”  
“Well, yes. But not _how_ you were important. I have a lot of visions of aeroplanes, but I might never ride in one.”  
“You mentioned them before…”  
“Muggle flying machines. The things they make possible – rapid transit across both land and water, for one. But dropping fire from the sky, destroying entire cities… they are powerful in terrible terrible ways.  
“But we are getting off track, Albus. The point is, I wasn’t sure of your feelings for me until I told you all about Durmstrang, and you still loved me. It would have broken me to make plans to marry you if you had no desire to marry me. After my birthday, it seemed possible that one day, when I asked, you would say yes. But yes, I already felt that I knew you well enough that I would have married you the moment we met, if it were at all possible for you to have already known me. As it was, I had to wait and see.”

Albus took Gellert’s hands, moved closer to him, kissed his forehead.  
“Thank you. For telling me.”  
“My pleasure,” said Gellert, who leaned in to kiss Albus – stopping just before meeting his lips. He pulled back and looked at Albus searchingly.  
“Your are not here with me, Love. Are you thinking about the aeroplanes?”  
Albus nodded. “We have been separated from the Muggles for too long – we give them too little credit. That is what makes them so dangerous. We underestimate what they are capable of. If we can somehow communicate this to more Purebloods, without them becoming so fearful that they call for exterminating the Muggles, which is impossible in any case…  
And how are these aeroplanes being developed? Is it possible to stop them from being created? Or is it too late? Are there too many Muggles to redirect? Would someone else build the aeroplanes anyway, if we somehow put a stop to everyone working on how to make flying machines right now?”  
Gellert laughed, “You, Liebling – your mind goes so fast. Gods, I love you.” Gellert pulled Albus in and kissed him. “I do wish that the aeroplanes had not kept you from fully appreciating my story about how I came to begin planning our blood pact, but – your intelligence is sexy, so I will excuse it.”  
Albus smiled, and teased, “I’m glad that I remain worthy of your forgiveness.”

Albus wrapped one hand lightly around the side of Gellert’s neck, and began combing his fingers through Gellert’s hair with the other. “And I did fully appreciate your story, Love. In spite of the aeroplane distraction. I am much more stuck on your declaration that you would have married me the day we met. It seemed to me almost a miracle that I met you in tiny Godric’s Hollow. You were so enamoured with me, it seemed impossible. Like a dream that was both wonderful and frightening at the same time. You couldn’t know me, but you seemed to know me. I was confused - intrigued, intoxicated, but so confused, that someone like you could want me."  
"Hmm. You know, even if I didn't already know you, I would have wanted you - you are gorgeous."  
"But I was so - awkward, and you were so confident and sexy."  
"Oh! Sexy was I? Is that what you noticed first?"  
Albus rolled his eyes. He should never have said that.  
"Well, that and that you were my age, and in my chair with my favourite book. That you were even at Bathilda's was a recommendation of sorts."  
"Albus -"  
"Yes, of course it was the first thing I noticed! Arse! What do you think? You're insanely handsome. It was distracting."  
"Hmm. You are very distracting yourself, Albus Dumbledore. With your hands in my hair, looking at me with those beautiful blue eyes and telling me I'm sexy. You distracted me from correcting you - you were not awkward at all. You were a bit flustered, but it was endearing. If anything, it made me want you more, seeing how much you must want me already."  
Albus dropped his eyes.  
"Albus. I have always wanted you - always. I am mostly sorry that you hadn’t yet seen why anyone would want you, but a bit glad, because there must have been other boys who were interested in you that you failed to notice."  
Albus looked back up with a smile. "Perhaps there was no one else worth noticing." 

Gellert pushed Albus back onto the bed and climbed on top of him.  
“Gellert –“ Albus said, reaching up to run his hand down Gellert’s side.  
“I know that your love will be different than mine – having seen me for so long – that you still see my future potential selves when you look at me – but know that your love will never be more – could never be more. You are everything to me.”  
Gellert bent down to kiss him, slowly and thoroughly, as if he needed to memorize the feel of Albus’ lips, his teeth, his tongue, the roof of his mouth. When they finally separated, they looked at one another, dazed, as if they were seeing one another new, again.

“My turn,” said Gellert. “Show me?”  
Albus met Gellert’s eyes, and felt him slip into his mind.  
Albus was still reeling from the kiss, from Gellert’s love for him, from his own love for Gellert. He heard Gellert gasp, and he smiled. Whatever happened next, it was sure to be brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo – Given the Honesty vow, anything that Albus and Gellert have said since making the Blood Pact is – to the best of their knowledge – literally true – because neither one of them has bled - yet. Any dishonesty (and of course there is some – we’ve already seem a great deal of omission from both of them, and Lord knows what else we will discover they have been hiding) is to be found in the gaps – what they _haven’t_ said. And also in what they are hiding from themselves. Just – in case you are looking to be anxious/suspicious, look for silences. Neither of them has lied to one another for several months – or, at least not in a strict lawyerly sense. 
> 
> Lovelies, you have been marvelously patient regarding the whole Elder Wand business – you will be rewarded next chapter!


	24. Not According to Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… this was originally a 10,000 word chapter! I have cut it down into two parts. If all goes well, the other half will be up tomorrow.
> 
> Note that we have been moving pretty slowly through time, here - as AO3 counts it, there are 24 chapters up now, and while we have covered a lot plot-wise / thematically, we haven't covered too much of the calendar! So - keep in mind that Gellert is 17, Albus is 18, and they’ve been together not quite nine months at this point.

Chapter 22  
March 1900, continued

They did not get the Elder Wand the next night. Or the night after that.

Albus had been proud of their plan. They had learned so many things in order to make it easier not only to take possession of the Wand, but to do so safely and anonymously. They had learned that Gellert’s glamours could be undone in a moment by a Revelio charm, but that Polyjuice could not – so Gellert was now going to be using the Polyjuice as well. They had learned how to Apparate while in their Animagus forms. Albus’ powdered lacewings had indeed sped up the production of the Polyjuice. They had established that it was possible to change from a Polyjuiced appearance into their own Animagus forms and back, without the Polyjuice losing its effectiveness. 

Gellert had not yet developed a spell to look through solid objects, but as a backup plan he had been modifying the Homenem Revelio charm so that it would not be felt by any humans detected – and so that it could be cast at a distance of a mile or more. Casting the spell while envisioning the space you were searching revealed the names of any persons in that area or building or room. The name or names appeared on an enchanted scrap of parchment. Gellert wasn’t pleased with it, since he had hoped to accomplish something 'more impressive,' but Albus thought it was perhaps even more useful than seeing through solid objects, and he had trouble waiting for his Polyjuice to wear off so that he could demonstrate to Gellert just how arousing such astonishingly powerful magic was.  
He might not have waited if Gellert hadn’t found him not looking like himself to be off-putting. He could see Gellert’s point, but this Polyjuice was entirely too effective – it didn’t take much to disguise him for ten hours. Albus decided that he needed to develop a potion that reversed Polyjuice, for this very situation.

They hadn’t needed to practice duelling – they had been doing that regularly for fun, anyway. So their reflexes were fine. And they were familiar with the area in Königsberg, and knew what the workshop looked like, and the Wand, and Gregorovitch. They had taken the train to Danzig with fresh Polyjuiced appearances, and let a room in a Muggle hotel. They had several plans for escaping Königsberg, including a plan for if an anti-apparition ward were to be placed over the entire Wizarding district. And, of course, simply sticking to the Muggle areas in Thorn and never appearing as themselves in Königsberg had already given them a certain measure of anonymity.  
They were prepared. They had everything planned. Except for one thing: the plan required for Gregorovitch to be in his workshop, and they had absolutely no control over that.

On the first night, a half hour before sunset, they sat in a cafe with their enchanted parchment under a newspaper. They sat there for two hours, with nothing registering on the parchment. They took a walk down the street – still nothing. They transformed into birds – nothing. They stayed out until 1am, but Gregorovitch never showed.  
The second night required that they burn yet another identity (Albus was glad he had so much hair to choose from.) They did things in much the same way, but this time they had two scraps of enchanted parchment – one for Gregorovitch’s workshop, and one for the building as a whole. Gregorovitch was in the building, but never entered the workshop. Was he in the living quarters? It seemed too early to be in the shop.  
The third night, in yet another man’s image, Gellert took more of a risk. He went to a nearby bar and struck up a conversation with the bartender. 

“I’ve heard that Old Gregorovitch is ill. I hope it isn’t true.”  
The bartender lifted an eyebrow. “Are you from East Prussia? I have not seen you before.”  
“I come to Königsberg periodically. I have a son at Durmstrang. Gregorovitch made his wand, and it is extraordinary. I don’t know why anyone would go anywhere else.”  
“Well, they will have to soon enough. The Wizard is poorly, and I am afraid he has never taken an apprentice.”  
“It would be a tragedy to lose Gregorovitch – and worse not to have a wandmaker in Königsberg at all! It is unimaginable. But surely it is not so bad that Gregorovitch will not recover.”  
“I fear it is so. I have heard that it is the Dragon Pox.”

Gellert made some more conversation, and after a decent interval, made his way to Albus, who was waiting on a rooftop, disillusioned. He indicated that they needed to leave for the moment, so they apparated a few blocks away into a church that Gellert had become fond of. (Albus suspected that this was entirely due to the high altar – with its enormous carved crucifixion scene. They hadn’t spoken of crucifixions in a long time, but Gellert did not surrender obsessions easily.)  
“Gregorovitch is ill. He may die. He is not going to be back in the workshop most likely.”  
No wonder he had had the shutters opened that night – perhaps he had been growing feverish – and so both overheated and careless. Unless this was some elaborate ruse that the bartender was in on… Albus found that he was sceptical.

“So – we have to go in there and work out his wards ourselves?”  
“Yes, well, at least we know no one will interrupt us.”  
“If this bartender was right. It could be an idle rumour – it could be Gregorovitch will suddenly appear and surprise us.”  
Gellert weighed that for a moment.  
“That’s true, but Dragon Pox does fit the evidence.”  
Albus sighed. “We should go back to Thorn and regroup. Make an entirely new plan.”  
“Albus. We have all the tools we need. No matter how well we plan, the plan will fail us in some way in the end.”

Gellert looked determined. Albus could fight it, but he was going to give in to Gellert in the end, so –  
“Fuck. Ok, fine. I’ll be wardbreaker, and you cover me, ok? Then we’ll – find his bedroom I guess, and – what will we do to him? If he’s very ill, even a stunner might kill him, and a Depulso almost definitely would.”  
“It’s Dragon Pox, Albus. He is going to die anyway.”  
Not everyone died of Dragon Pox, which Gellert was sure to know as well as anyone.

“… And if he dies of natural causes, never defeated… I’m not sure what happens. Maybe the Wand never works for anyone.”  
“And if that is the case, then perhaps it is better –“  
“Albus. I said ‘maybe.’ In truth, I cannot anticipate with any certainty the result of Gregorovitch dying undefeated, still holding the wand.”  
“Ok… Incarcerous seems best, then.”  
“Very well.”

The whole process was a bit anticlimactic, in Albus’ eyes. He had been strangely looking forward to duelling a man with dozens of wands at his disposal. And getting into the workshop before Gregorovitch could hex them would have been an exciting challenge as well. But in the end, with no one there to stop them, it had taken Albus less than 5 minutes to take down the wards on the workshop, and 10 to remove the wards from the box.  
Albus handed the Wand to Gellert, who handed the Wand back to Albus.  
Fine. He would carry it for now.

Finding Gregorovitch’s bedroom wasn’t difficult either. Standing outside the door, Albus held out the Wand to Gellert, and met his eyes.  
‘It’s yours, Gellert – you were the one who wanted it.’  
‘I want you to have it. Please, Albus.’  
Albus did not feel that he was any more trustworthy with the thing than Gellert was.  
‘The ritual, though…’

And that was when she came into the hallway – Gregorovitch’s wife. It briefly occurred to Albus: they had forgotten to consult the parchment before entering the workshop.  
She cast a Cruciatus at Gellert. “You think that’s the Elder Wand? As if we wouldn’t –“ Albus cut her off with a wandless Depulso, and she flew back, hitting the wall hard. She didn't rise, or make a sound.  
Albus bent down over Gellert. “Gods, are you - ?”  
Gellert met Albus’ eyes. ‘Shut up, Albus.’  
‘Shouldn’t I be feeling - ?’  
‘I’m occluding the aftereffects. I need you to focus. No talking to me, remember? Legilimency only. You need to get up, subdue Gregorovitch, and see if his wife was telling the truth about the Wand.’  
‘But – I – shouldn’t I go check on her and see - ?’  
‘Gregorovitch is sure to have heard it Albus. Get going. Never check the bodies on a battlefield. As long as she’s down, it doesn’t matter.’  
It didn’t matter. Ok.  
Albus stood and turned to pull Gellert up... But he was already standing. How the fuck was he standing?  
‘You sure you don’t want the Wand?’  
‘Enough, Albus. Move.’

Albus quickly checked for wards on the bedroom door, but there weren’t any. There was a Silencing charm, however. Albus wasn’t sure if that was lucky or not. They entered, and saw the wandmaker lying on the bed, greenish and wheezing. Was he actually asleep?  
Not sure if it was important for the man to be awake, Albus kicked over a chair. Gregorovitch startled and began to sit up. Waving the wand they had stolen (the Elder Wand?), Gregorovitch was bound in slender ropes, just as Albus had envisioned. The Wand began to warm in his hand. He was fairly certain the Madame Gregorovitch had been lying to them after all. Still…  
“Where is the Elder Wand, Gregorovitch?”  
Gregorovitch looked confused. “But that – that is the Wand.”  
“You’re a wandmaker. Why wouldn’t you have made replicas, decoys?”  
Gregorovitch looked at Albus blankly. Enough, thought Albus. He met Gellert’s eyes. ‘Imperio. You’re better at it than me.’  
Gellert cast the Imperius, removed the bindings, and instructed Gregorovitch to point to the Wand if it was in the room. He pointed to a drawer in the bedside table.  
Albus spent some time looking at the drawer – there were a host of nasty curses on it – and most of them he had never seen before. It could take him half an hour or more to unravel them. Depending upon what was hidden underneath them, it could take all night. 

Gellert cleared his throat, prompting Albus to turn. ‘I want you to have the Wand, Albus. If it keeps going this way, I’ll be the one who defeats him. You have to be the one to cast the Imperius, or you have to take him out some other way.’  
‘But why -?’  
‘Albus. A mission is not a field trip. You can ask all your questions later.’  
Perhaps not, but Gellert was changing the plan a great deal by having Albus master the Wand first. That had never… oh. Never been discussed. Albus had just assumed… Of all the things, why had they not worked this part out?

Gellert removed the Imperius, and Albus said, “Open the drawer.”  
“I will not.”  
“You will remove the curses, and open the drawer. Now.”  
“And if I –“  
“Crucio!”  
Albus had never cast that curse before. It felt – strange. He felt vaguely ill and yet powerful at the same time.

“Open the drawer, Gregorovitch.”  
“No.”  
Gellert spoke from behind Albus. “It would be a shame if anything were to happen to your wife.”  
Outstanding. Fake leverage. Gregorovitch had better not call Gellert’s bluff. Then again, Gellert’s polyjuiced form was quite intimidating. He looked like someone who did unspeakable things hourly. The threat seemed entirely believable.

“You wouldn’t – she’s innocent – she has nothing to do with this.”  
Innocent? Really. She cast a Cruciatus at Gellert with the ease of someone who had a great deal of experience.  
Speaking of which… “Crucio!” Albus didn’t want to hold it very long – the man was ill. Just enough to give him the sense that they were serious.  
Gellert turned to Albus. “You seem to have things in hand here. I’ll go and see what his wife knows.”  
“Wait! I will do it.”  
Gellert met Albus’ eyes briefly. ‘You stand behind me, and as soon as he gets the drawer open, Stun him. We don’t want him to have time to touch the Wand.’

Between two Crucios, an Imperio, and the strain on his core from removing all of those curses, Greogorovitch was sweating and on the verge of collapse by the time that he had the drawer open. Albus was afraid to stun him. His wife might have hurt Gellert, but Gregorovitch was not his wife. Gregorovitch was useful – not just to the magical community, but to them as well. He wanted to avoid killing him if he could, and it seemed that there were few things that he could cast on the wandmaker that would not kill him. He quickly bound him in a blanket like a straightjacket.

Gellert groaned, and cast Albus’ privacy spell. “You realize he’s going to die of thirst, bound like that. If his wife is dead, no one is going to find him. He’s not any less dead if you don’t have to see it happen. It’s better to risk killing him quickly with a stunner than to condemn him to a slow death.”  
Albus did not really want to spend time explaining. And he was becoming increasingly annoyed with Gellert’s patronising tone.  
“As I believe you said earlier, shut up, Gellert.”  
Albus cancelled the spell.  
“Legilimens!” Yes, all of the curses and wards had been removed from the drawer. No, there were no curses on the Wand itself. No, there had been no other wards and alarms on the workshop, the Wand case, or the apartment, other than the ones Albus had already found – so, yes, they had time. And yes, there was one more decoy wand, hidden behind the counter in the shop downstairs.

Albus removed the true Elder Wand from the drawer, marched into the hall, and checked on Gregorovitch’s wife. Before Gellert could say anything, Albus said, “This is not a battlefield. We have two incapacitated people only.” Albus pointed the Elder Wand at the Witch. “Legilimens!”  
“Her eyes are closed.”  
“Oh, are they?" Albus asked sarcastically. "Thank you for pointing that out to me. Note that I am holding the Elder Wand? The usual rules seem not to apply.”  
She was alive, and Albus had seen all that he had been looking for – plus a few other details that made him not at all inclined to be gentle with Madame Gregorovitch.  
Albus levitated her into Gregorovitch’s bedroom, and dropped her down next to him.  
“It’s a shame how contagious Dragon Pox is. Gregorovitch, I think, will survive, but unfortunately, his wife will not.”  
Gellert grabbed Albus’ shoulder and spun him around, ‘What are you doing?!’  
‘Not a field trip, Gellert. You can save your questions for later.’  
Gellert set his jaw, eyes narrowed in anger. But he did not reply. Albus turned back to the Gregorovitchs, breaking eye contact.

Albus pointed the Elder Wand at Gregorovitch first. Yes, he could feel it. The Wand had been used for healing before, many times. A shame Gregorovitch hadn’t thought of it. He had shown so little imagination, to use the Elder Wand only to assist in making other wands. He was a great wandmaker, but in the end, not a very interesting thinker. Albus erased all memory of the evening, as well as any memory of a second decoy. He planted the idea that the wand on his bedside table was the Elder Wand, and that he had carelessly left it out, distracted by his concern for his sick wife. He planted a suggestion that the Elder Wand was overrated – that it didn’t really do anything special – that perhaps what he had found was not the real Elder Wand. Then he put Gregorovitch to sleep, and, without touching him, unwound the blanket binding Gregorovitch, and manipulated his hand so that he was holding his wife’s hand.  
Albus turned his wand on the Witch. He concentrated on making her weak, vulnerable, susceptible to the Pox. He turned to Gregorovitch and concentrated on finding the Pox in his system. It was like a greenish mist filling every part of his body. Albus collected most of the mist and compacted it into a ball, sending it down Gregorovitch’s arm, through his hand, and into his wife’s hand, releasing the Pox in her body. It was satisfying watching the green mist spread through her body.  
As he pulled back out of his meditation, Albus saw Madam Gregorovitch’s skin was now a pale greenish color, her breathing laboured. The wandmaker, on the other hand, while still pale, had a more pinkish cast.

Albus levitated Gregorovitch onto the bed. Then he Obliviated Madam Gregorovitch – so that she would remember nothing of the evening, so that she would remember only one decoy wand, so that she would remember beginning to feel poorly. He returned her to her own bedroom.  
Yes. Now they would be safe. No one would know that Gregorovitch did not have the Elder Wand – and Gregorovitch would be uncertain whether he had ever had it. The trail would run cold in Königsberg.

Albus met Gellert’s eyes.  
‘Now we go.’  
‘Workshop window?’  
‘Apparition.’  
‘But the wards…’  
‘I checked all that. We are perfectly safe to apparate.’  
‘Won’t Gregorovitch notice that his wards are down?’  
‘He doesn’t remember setting them. He is going to think he forgot.’  
‘And his wife?’  
‘Gellert. We are going. Now.’  
And without waiting for a reply, Albus apparated away.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Gellert arrived in their hotel room in Muggle Danzig not long after Albus, and immediately started shouting.  
“None of that was in the plan, Albus!”  
“But plans are not particularly important anyway, are they Gellert? Or was breaking into Gregorovitch’s workshop when it was empty part of the plan? Was me removing the wards on the box part of the plan?”  
“At least we discussed it!”  
“We did not discuss you giving me the Wand! So we were both surprised… And speaking of surprises, what was with your attitude? Never check the bodies on the battlefield?”  
“Hogwarts,” Gellert sneered in disgust. “Your education was utterly deficient. There was a potential hostile behind the door. There wasn’t time to spare.”  
“That is exactly the sort of thing that you should have taught me in advance, then, seeing as this was clearly not _your_ first time on a mission like this one!”  
“I had no way of knowing you wouldn’t know already! Every Durmstrang student knows these things.” Then Gellert began grumbling. “Every _male_ Durmstrang student. They don’t teach the girls. It’s unconscionable, depriving them of an education.”  
Was that what Gellert was most concerned about? Or was he more upset that there were half as many well-trained potential soldiers available as there would have been otherwise? Probably both. 

“Always with Durmstrang. Such a superior education you have. I suppose they Crucio you there, too.”  
“Naturally. How else are you supposed to learn to resist it – to recover quickly?”  
Fucking Durmstrang. Next Gellert was going to be suggesting that he needed to Crucio Albus for his edification.  
In the silence, as Albus considered what to say next, Gellert continued.  
“You! You changed the subject, and I fucking let you! Albus! What did you do to Madam Gregorovitch? She was neutralized. There was no need…”  
“No need?! She tried to kill you, Gellert.”  
“It was just a Crucio!”  
‘ _Just_ a Crucio.’ What kind of person said, ‘ _just_ a Crucio?’ His husband, apparently. For all the stars! It had been terrifying to see Gellert twitching on the ground like that. Gellert / not-Gellert. Polyjuiced Gellert. Still - he had known who it was, and it had broken something in him. How could they have been so careless? Locking eyes in an open space like that. 

“It was _not_ ‘just a Crucio.’ She was planning to immediately follow with an Avada – would have done – I just barely beat her to it with my Depulso. I can’t believe I overwhelmed her shield.” Albus considered that it was only because he was so enraged that he had managed it.  
“She had a whole plan. She was going to kill you, then torture and question me, with the threat of death clear, because I would have already seen her kill you. No need? She was going to kill you in front of me! I could never let her live after that.”  
Did Polyjuice wear off at the same rate after death? Or would Gellert never have returned to his own body? Albus went back to the last moment he had seen Gellert in his own body. It hadn’t seemed portentous at all, taking the Polyjuice. Albus hadn’t even thought to kiss Gellert goodbye before he disappeared into another body.  
“That’s – killing is not for revenge Albus.”  
“Well, no one’s asking _you_ to kill for revenge. Suit yourself.” 

“This is not even like you. You were upset at first when you thought you had killed her.”  
Yes, well. One’s perspective changes when you realize that someone had nearly killed your husband.  
“I was surprised and confused more than I was upset. I haven’t – hadn’t? _hadn’t_ killed anyone before, and I hadn’t even been trying to kill her. That I might have killed her _by accident_ \- it seemed... Gellert, you are being a hypocrite. You wanted me to kill Gregorovitch.”  
“That was different. I didn’t _want_ you to kill him, I wanted you to _risk_ killing him. What did you do to him, anyway?”  
“He thinks he still has the Wand. He thinks he gave his wife a fatal case of Dragon Pox, but he is going to get better. Keep making wands.”  
“And maybe get killed by someone trying to get this fake Elder Wand.”  
“Well. He should not have taken it in the first place, if he was going to be so loose-lipped and sloppy. But perhaps he’ll get lucky. In any case, we will be quite visibly in Constantinople before anyone else tries. I covered our tracks completely. No one took the Elder Wand tonight. So let’s push on to the end, where you say, ‘Thank you, Albus.’”

Gellert threw up his hands. “Who the fuck are you?”  
“I am the man who saved your life, while you were treating me like a fucking amateur.”  
“You _are_ an amateur, Albus. It is luck only that we were not both killed.”  
“Yeah, ok, maybe I am an amateur. But at least I had my shield up in the hallway! For someone who is so committed to never leaving me… Where the fuck was your shield, Gellert?!” Albus closed his eyes and blinked back tears. He had been reliving the near miss over and over since seeing the planned Avada in Madam Gregorovitch’s mind.  
Albus slowed his breathing. In: they were alive. Out: they had the Wand. In: they were alive…

“That did not go at all how I thought it would. And I never thought I would kill a person by Dragon Pox. It seems…”  
“Clever, actually.” Gellert conceded. “Really fucking disturbing, but clever.”  
“You think so?”  
“Of course. It is not as bloody as your rabbits, so I understand if it feels not so much like you did something…” Albus should tell Gellert about visualising the spreading cloud. Directly manipulating the illness, and seeing it move… was actually quite satisfying. No, he had definitely done something. “But strategically?” Gellert continued. “This was a far superior method. It does not look like murder at all.”  
Murder.  
“And it doesn’t bother you -?”  
“I’m never going to think that it was necessary to kill her, Albus. We are going to need to talk about that. But – no. I understand why you did it, and the how is - weirdly intriguing.”

What a relief not to be yelling at one another anymore. Albus walked towards Gellert, reaching out his hand. “I lo – gods! You don’t look at all like yourself, Gellert.” No, he was entirely too tall, entirely too large in every dimension in fact, with thick eyebrows and a permanent scowl… and he looked to be at least 50 years old.  
“I know, I – fuck – Albus do _not_ come any closer to me looking like that.”  
All Albus wanted was to embrace his not-dead husband, and they had another five hours or more in these ridiculous bodies.  
“Gah! Revelio!” Albus cried out in frustration. And – Gellert was Gellert again. Oh! That wasn’t supposed to work.  
Albus was shocked. “How did that - ?” Wands were not supposed to counter potions. Only potions and other consumables could counter potions. 

Gellert laughed delightedly. “Oh, it’s going to be marvellous learning what the Elder Wand can do! See if you can cast it on yourself, silently this time.”  
Albus pointed the wand at himself as best he could, and made a twisting motion while thinking, ‘I want to neutralize the Polyjuice. I want to be back to myself, my own appearance.’  
And he was. He dropped the Wand in surprise. 

“Gods, Albus.” Gellert rushed Albus. “I was afraid the whole time that someone was going to hurt you. I’m so sorry I shouted at you, I just – I didn’t know all the things you didn’t know – and then after you had the Wand, I didn’t know what you were doing, and I was afraid you were distracted and we would be caught, and – fuck, don’t scare me like that!” He kissed Albus, pushing his tongue into Albus’ mouth almost right away, telegraphing his urgency - but soon Albus drew back.  
Albus took Gellert’s face in both hands. “You were scared for me? You almost died! We were taken by surprise, and I was almost not fast enough, and… What would I have done? We need to do better. I refuse to live without you, do you understand? Look at me.” He didn’t have to push his emotions forward for Gellert - his fear and his despair and his feelings of helplessness, together with his love and desire and need were already swirling together at the surface.

“Albus, I’m here, we’re both here, we’re – “  
It was impossible to tell which one of them vanished their clothes. In an instant, their mouths and hands were everywhere, both of them frantic, neither of them willing to yield to the other, but Gellert was stronger, and soon he had Albus pushed up against the wall. He removed his mouth from Albus’ long enough to ask, “Ok?”  
“Gellert – gods, yes – Fick mich jetzt.”  
Gellert groaned, and cast a lubrication spell, and a spell to stretch Albus for good measure.  
Albus laughed, “Impatient, Love?”  
“You did say ‘now’,” Gellert replied, lifting up Albus by the back of his thighs. Albus wrapped his legs around Gellert without even thinking about it.  
“Your magic, tonight - Fuck... I need -” Gellert didn’t finish that thought, instead driving into Albus with a shout.  
Albus would later be grateful for silencing charms, and for the cushioning charm that Gellert had cast on the wall, and for lubricating charms and stretching charms and all of the other things that made sex easier for Wizards than it was for Muggles. But right now, he was desperately clawing at Gellert’s back, delirious, lost in Gellert’s passionate near-violence. 

When Gellert had finished, he gave Albus a long look.  
“Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you – did I?”  
“You are fierce and alive and everything I want.”  
“Albus.”  
“Shh – You know I tell you to stop if I need you to.”  
“That’s not an answer either.”  
“Gods! Fine. It hurt, but I needed it to, and I’m not injured, and I love you, and I wish you would stop worrying about it and just go down on me so that I can finish.”  
Gellert laughed. “Ok, Schatz. Come lay down and I’ll take care of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, 50kolorowyKameleon, you got your first murder – kind of… 
> 
> I have imagined the Königsberg Wizarding District to be in Altstadt. The church where Gellert goes to speak with Albus (and which, it is implied, he regularly visits to sit and think) is the New Alstadt Church, built 1838-1845, and damaged enough in WW2 to be put out of service in 1944.
> 
> Fick mich jetzt = Fuck me now  
> As always, thanks to Aiflenoif for the German translations


	25. The Wand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am doing the opposite of what is usual for NaNoWriMo – I am suspending work on this – novel, I guess it is becoming (series of novels, maybe?), in order to write something that I will _not_ be posting on AO3 - an original sci-fi work that has been on the backburner so long that one might question whether it is still in the kitchen.
> 
> I assure you - I will be back in December! This work is by no means in limbo! Just – for my own discipline, I cannot work on this while working on another novel, because I love writing Greater Good so much that I would do nothing else at all, if it were feasible.  
> In the meantime – it is possible that I will be undisciplined enough to post a one-shot here and there.  
> Thank you all, and I’ll see you in December!

Chapter 23  
March 1900, continued

Five days later, they were in Krakow. The rest of the potions brewed and the Elder Wand obtained, there was nothing to do but relax, explore, and experiment with the Elder Wand. Albus had become increasingly attached to the Wand, and it was on his person at almost all times. This morning, Albus and Gellert were in bed reading, Gellert sitting up against the headboard, and Albus with his head in Gellert’s lap, the Wand on his chest.  
“I’ve been wondering,” Gellert said, touching the Wand, “what the difference is…”  
“What are you doing? Hands off, Gellert. Now.”  
Albus’ voice had been hard, cold, controlled, edged with anger and violence, and Gellert looked confused.

“Albus, I was just curious – wondering if you can tell the difference physically between when it is bound to you and when it is not bound to you. So later - ”  
Albus sat up and edged away from Gellert a bit, holding the wand loosely in his hand. “That does not begin to sound believable, Gellert. You were going to take it for yourself.”  
“Albus! I was not! What would make you think that? I am the one who handed it to you. I am the one making the plan for us to hold it together.”  
“About that. Maybe I should continue to be its sole master. Your obsession with this Wand seems – unhealthy.”  
“Albus - ”  
“And besides, how am I to know what this ritual _really_ does? Maybe it just transfers power over the Wand from me to you.”

Gellert looked incredulous. Albus could not think why. If anything it was Gellert’s behavior that was unbelievable.  
“Albus, the whole point of this – Listen, we do the ritual at the Spring Equinox for balance – balance between you and me. Equality. And the sun’s power is increasing, just as the power of the Wand will increase if we hold it balanced between us.“  
“So you say.”  
Gellert had sounded calm up until this point – but now his voice started to rise in volume. “Yes, so I say. And if you can’t trust me, you can trust the Blood Pact. I vowed to always tell you the truth. I will bleed if I don’t.”  
“Will you though? Neither one of us has bled yet, so we really haven’t seen the consequences.”  
Gellert threw his book across the room.  
“Because we’ve been keeping our vows, Albus! What the fuck? I’m not going to take the Wand from you!!”  
Albus looked at Gellert skeptically. 

Gellert growled in frustration and got up off the bed.  
“Albus, you’re right. I never loved you.” Gellert gave a pained cry. “I have just been using you all along.”  
It was just as Albus had feared. Of course Gellert didn’t love him – it had been about the Wand all along. Albus’ chest hurt, and his throat tightened, and – Gellert held up his left hand – blood running out of a slash on his palm.  
“None of that was true, Albus – I do love you, so much. How could you think - ? I hate that I hurt you saying that I was only using you, but I just didn’t know how else to convince you that I’m not going to steal the Wand from you, that I’m not going to betray you.”  
Gellert pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hand dry, revealing that taking back those untrue words had closed the wound, leaving behind a scar, a thin red line.  
“Fuck, that hurt. But it hurt a lot more for you to accuse me like that. Do you understand Albus? Last week you could not have been more certain that I loved you, and now…”

Hmm. His hand didn’t just bleed, it hurt… that was interesting information – and it looked like the blood flowed from exactly the place where they had cut their palm for the Blood Pact. But why just one hand? Why… “I wonder why it was the left hand, and not the right?” Albus asked out loud.  
“Nice, Albus. Excellent apology there.”  
Interesting. Gellert wasn’t bleeding. Sarcasm must not register as dishonesty.

Albus reached for Gellert’s hand, but Gellert stepped away.  
“I don’t know what’s happening to you Albus, but I don’t like it. I think it’s the Wand.”  
“It’s not the Wand!” Albus roared.  
“No? So then why are you yelling at me?”  
“Because you are – because – it isn’t the Wand. It can’t be – “

Gellert took a deep breath. “Think it through, Albus. When have you ever treated me like this? Well, besides when you thought I was reading you without your consent… Ok, nevermind. You’re right. This is typical behaviour for you.”  
Albus could hear that Gellert was being sarcastic again, but nevertheless he wondered: was this typical behaviour? This morning, he had accused Gellert of dishonesty, of treachery – No, the incident after the ball didn’t compare to this one – and there was no prior argument that had come close to that earlier argument about the Legilimency. This was not in fact typical behaviour. This was –  
Albus looked down at his hand, at the Wand now pointed at Gellert, then he looked at Gellert, at his defensive stance, his wand in his hand but still pointed at the ground, every muscle tense, as if he was ready for Albus to curse him at any moment. Albus dropped the Wand on the bed and looked down at it in horror.

“Gellert – I almost – Fuck! What might I have done to you?! This Wand – I didn’t even know I was pointing it at you! I’m so sorry. Gods, I’m sorry. I love you, please believe me.”  
Gellert sat heavily in the nearest chair.  
“I do, Albus. I believe you.”  
It occurred to Albus that he had given exactly no evidence of loving Gellert in the past several minutes, and he wondered if Gellert only believed him because he was not bleeding himself.  
“Gellert, why did we ever take it? More and more I feel that I have to protect it, keep it, that I can’t trust anyone to touch it. And all the time I feel driven to use it to overpower people one way or another. No wonder Gregorovitch locked it away. It’s poisoned!”

Gellert put his head in his hands for a moment. When he looked back up, he gripped his hair tightly in one hand. “Ok. Albus. It will be ok. I think we can manage this. The ‘purification of dark artefacts’ element of the ritual will need to be made a bit stronger. I don’t want you to worry. As long as we keep it safely away from both of us for six more days, we will be ok.”  
“I can’t – Gellert, we need to find a box for it, today. Something we can ward in such a way that I have to take my time removing it – to slow me down, make me really think about whether I need it. I’m not going to be able to stop using it just by deciding not to. It is very difficult just leaving it on the bed for the moment.”  
Gellert sighed. “Yes, that is probably for the best. But right now, I need – right, ok. _We_ need to leave the room for a bit – go looking for this box you want.” 

Albus was fairly certain that that had not been what Gellert had been about to say. Gellert very much looked like he did when he wanted to take a walk by himself – but it appeared that he didn’t trust Albus alone with the Wand. Albus tried to tamp down his indignation. At least Gellert would not be alone with the Wand either.  
But wait. Was Gellert expecting Albus to leave the Wand in the room _unprotected?_ Surely it wouldn’t be a problem if…  
Albus reached for the Wand. “Albus…”  
“What do you want from me?!”  
“What I want is for you to open that drawer in the nightstand. I want you to not touch the Wand – I want you to levitate it into the drawer, shut the drawer, and ward it as elaborately as you like. And then I want us to go out into Muggle Krakow wandless, as we have always done in Muggle areas.”

Right. Not touching the Wand for six long days – that was the plan.  
Albus remembered having thought that any wand would be useless to him, redundant. After all, he already had powerful magic – he could perform magic greater than many Witches or Wizards decades older than him, without even using a wand. But he had underestimated the power of this Wand – what it could do stretched the bounds of the possible.  
While that seemed a good argument for having it, Albus had learned this morning that he had been correct to fear the Wand. It seemed to have a strong will of its own, and a propensity for violence. He wondered if the Wand had set Gregorovitch up to lose it (it? him? her?) – if the Wand had been looking for someone who would do interesting and violent things with it.

Albus spent ten minutes securing the Wand, and then he and Gellert went out, wandless, into the city.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Each day, they spent several hours scouting out areas for the Equinox ritual – somewhere far from people, where they could see the sky, where they could spend the entire night uninterrupted. Ideally a clearing in a wooded area with no roads nearby. After a day of flying out from the city in ever larger circles, it became evident that they only needed to look to the south. Each day, starting on the second day, they apparated to the point furthest south that they had reached, and began flying from there. They might have to go far, and while ravens were fast fliers, owls were not.  
Even though Albus’ animagus form was much slower in flight than Gellert’s, Gellert insisted on them going together. Albus knew intellectually that this was the right choice – that the temptation would be too great if he were left alone with the Wand for hours. But emotionally, it felt like Gellert was treating him like a child, always supervising him. He reminded himself that in any other situation, he would be glad not to be separated from Gellert. But each time they left their room, he worried nonstop about leaving the Wand behind.  
Albus spotted many possible places for them to perform the ritual, but Gellert wasn't satisfied with any of the sites they found, until late in the morning on the last day. Just over the border, there was a clearing near the top of a mountain. There were no houses for miles. Albus thought it was a good spot, but no better than any of a dozen (closer) places they had seen already. But Gellert declared this particular clearing to be perfect.

The next evening, Gellert and Albus apparated into the clearing about half an hour before sunset. Gellert had said that it was important for them to be there all night. The equinox was happening in that place just after 2:30am, so at sunset they would be on one side of the equinox, and at sunrise they would be on the other.  
They had the Wand, still warded in its box, and were carrying with them several clay bowls, a bottle of milk, four white candles, a white silk cord, the obsidian knife, and an unblooded jade knife that Gellert had bought in Austria, when Albus was distracting Wolf. They had also stolen a sheep on the way, which they had shrunk down so that it would fit in Albus’ pocket. Gellert had said that he had not initially been planning to shed any blood but their own, but the Wand’s effect over Albus was troubling, and they needed as much power behind the associated purification rite as possible.

“Intent is the most important aspect of anything we do tonight – of any magic we perform at any time,” Gellert reminded Albus as the sun was going down. “Albus, do you agree to join me in purifying the Elder Wand of its impulse to instigate violence and suspicion? Do you intend to overcome the division that the Elder Wand incites, instead holding this Wand in common with me, that we might, in using it, aid one another?”  
Albus took a deep breath. It was much easier to answer with the Wand still hidden in the box. “Yes, I do. I love you – I don’t want the Elder Wand to come between us.”  
Gellert looked relieved, as if he had not been sure how that part would go.  
“Gellert? Do you really think holding it together is possible?”  
Gellert looked thoughtful. “I’ve been working on this ritual for a long time, Albus. I’ve staked my life on the belief that it will work.”  
“Ok. Ok. Good. I love you, Gellert.”  
Gellert walked closer to Albus and cupped his face in one hand. “It’s going to work, Albus, and we will be fine – we will be stronger, even. Let your worries go, Liebling. Just relax into the ritual, ok?” He held Albus for a moment, and then released him, saying, “It’s time.”

Albus lit the candles, next stretching one of the clay vessels to fit the Wand. After slitting the sheep’s throat and collecting some of the blood in the now oblong basin, Gellert said, “You had better remove the Wand from the box, then, Albus.”  
With great trepidation, Albus opened the box and lifted the Wand, holding it only long enough to plunge it into the basin. His fingers were dripping with warm blood. He remembered this part… with any excess blood, he was to draw a circle, connecting the candles.  
The ritual went on and on, and Gellert’s chanting began to lull him into a drowsy trance… until he opened his eyes to Gellert leaning over him. “I am glad you were not needed for that part, Sleepy. Come see.”

Albus sat up and crawled a couple of feet until he could see into the basin. “Where did the blood go?”  
“The Wand drank it.”  
All of that blood had been absorbed into the Wand?  
“Vicious thing,” Gellert continued. “I am quite sure that this is a purifying ritual, but it is easy to imagine that I was just feeding the bloodthirsty beast.”  
Albus regarded the Wand with suspicion. It had nearly torn him and Gellert apart in just under a week. He wasn’t sure he wanted to touch it.

“I’m sorry I ever asked this of you, Albus. I didn’t know what a burden it would be. But to carry it now should be easier. Which is good, because you have to pick it up. You must reclaim it and cast a spell with it before we can do the ritual to share it.”  
“Gellert – no! I thought that you said that wands weren’t ever used in blood magic! I can’t – “  
Gellert came and sat facing Albus. He laid his hand on Albus’ shoulder. “You can do this, Liebling. The Wand shouldn’t be as – noisy, anymore. And – this ritual is entirely my own invention. Because it is a modern ritual – well, in any case, you would have to use a wand, given a wand is the object of the magic we are performing.”

“I have to cast a spell… What spell?“  
“Any spell. Something – powerful, non-violent – something light.” Then Gellert laughed, “Something not cast on me, please.”  
Albus nodded, then moved to remove the Wand from the now empty vessel. Gellert was right – it felt – quiet. There was a low thrum of power, unlike any wand Albus had ever held, but he was only a bit more wary of Gellert than he had been before taking the Wand in his hand.  
Just as he was thinking that the Wand seemed safe now, the thought of whether Gellert had been tempted to kill him as he slept in the clearing entered Albus’ head, but he shook it rather quickly. The thought was absurd. 

“Now?” Albus asked.  
“Now,” Gellert affirmed.  
Albus held the Wand and moved it in a wave-like motion, pointing at the edge of the clearing. Soon, there was a cylindrical wall enclosing the better part of the clearing – a wall of shifting light, reminiscent of the Aurora Borealis – only about five feet tall, and open to the sky.  
“Beautiful, Albus,” Gellert said in a tone of awe.  
Albus was a bit in awe himself. He resolved to charm the ceiling over the bed in this fashion, wherever they went.

There was a sound of a bell chiming, and Gellert came back to himself. “That was our signal that it is ten minutes until the equinox.”  
Gellert took the jade knife from his pocket and gave it to Albus, and Albus made a shallow cut in Gellert’s wand hand. Then Albus shifted the Elder Wand into his other hand, so that Gellert could cut his wand hand. The clasped hands to mix the blood, then Albus took the Wand. “This Wand is not mine, it is not yours, it is ours to hold together, as equals.” He handed the Wand to Gellert, and Gellert spoke the same words. Gellert held out the Wand to Albus, and they clasped hands, with the Wand held between them. At the moment of the equinox, the white cord rose and bound them together at the wrists, and together they spoke the simple incantation, “Lumos!” The spell cast, the silken cord dropped from their wrists.

As their hands separated, Albus was the one left with the Wand. He looked at it, then looked at Gellert. The Wand seemed – at peace, somehow. He handed the wand to Gellert easily – without fear or jealousy. If anything, the Wand seemed to give a pleasantly satisfied hum just as he was releasing his hold on it.  
“Gellert! It worked!”  
Gellert smiled and cast his first spell with the Elder Wand – causing wildflowers to bloom all around the inside of Albus’ Aurora wall. He picked some flowers by hand, and with a wave of the Wand, wove them into a crown of flowers which he then placed on Albus’ head. Albus laughed.

“We cannot really say that it worked, Schatz, until we see if it works the other way.”  
Gellert handed the Wand to Albus. “Did you – did it feel good to you when you handed it to me? Because just now, the Wand, it felt – I felt that it was happy for me to share it with you.”  
“Yes! Exactly!” said Albus. “Did you not know that would happen?”  
“I knew that the ritual would make it _possible_ to share the Wand. I didn’t know the Wand would _want_ to be shared. That’s –“  
“Amazing?”  
“Unexpected, certainly.”  
Albus smiled. “Usually I am the cautious one, Love.”

Gellert stepped closer to Albus, and raised his hand to touch his face, his thumb stroking Albus’ cheek. Gellert’s face was filled with love and awe, and a bit of sadness.  
“Gellert. Tell me.”  
“I hurt you. I didn’t mean for the Wand to hurt you. I meant for it to spare us both being hurt, and instead –“  
“Instead it was difficult for a short time. Everything is better now, Angel.”

“I was afraid for so long. I was never going to be satisfied that we had saved ourselves from that first vision until we guaranteed that we shared the Wand – that I would _never_ be the Wand’s only master. And now – it hardly seems possible , but I feel for the first time since I had the vision that I don’t have to be afraid anymore. I am sorry that it cost us so much.”  
“No, Love, I am sorry you were so afraid.”  
Albus bent forward, and kissed Gellert.  
“I am glad that it feels good to share the Wand, but right now – right now it is enough for me to be not scared. And relieved that you are no longer being hurt.”

Albus felt that he had already responded to this, so instead, as a distraction, he suggested, “You know what I have been wanting to try? Long distance apparition.”  
“Oh?” asked Gellert. “Where were you thinking we should go?”  
“I think that I can picture the Great Pyramid easily enough.”  
Gellert’s eyes widened. “You want to try apparating to Egypt from Upper Hungary?”  
A grin split Albus’ face. “I do. Are you coming?”  
“You wouldn’t go without me.”  
“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t. What do you think?”  
“I think it will be a miracle if we don’t splinch.”  
“And I think that this Wand specializes in miracles.”

Albus waved the Elder Wand lazily, and every ritual object was cleaned, reduced in size, and deposited in their pockets, while the Aurora wall was taken down. Albus decided to leave the sheep for the carrion birds.  
Albus held out the Wand to Gellert.  
“Would you like to be the one to take us there?”  
“Oh no, this is your crazy idea. I’ll do the next one.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus had not been prepared for how large the stones were. He and Gellert sat on a big block, not far up the Pyramid, legs not able to touch the next block down, but swinging as if they were small children. They were facing west – towards the moon and the desert. Cairo was behind them, hidden by the Pyramid. It would have been easy to see the city from the eastern side.  
Gellert smiled widely. “This is just as I saw it. You, me, the desert, the moon…”  
It was rare for Gellert to mention visions he had had of the two of them together. Albus kissed Gellert gently on the lips and whispered, “I’m glad something happy has come true.”  
“Oh, it happens a lot, where you are concerned.”  
They sat quietly, just enjoying the night.  
“It’s nice here,” said Albus. “We should come back some time, tour properly.”  
“Some time we are not exhausted by a blood ritual, and more than a thousand miles from all our possessions? Yes. I agree.”

Albus laughed. “We are far away, aren’t we? I can’t believe that worked!”  
“I am glad I did not know that you were not so confident before we left.”  
“No, I don’t literally mean – I just – I’m so happy, here with you. I’m happy anywhere with you, but here tonight especially.”  
Albus reached over and held Gellert’s hand.  
“I feel more free than I have since… Since that first week in Zagreb, maybe? No, this is better than that, even. It is like that first week in Paris, having left Godric's Hollow with you. I am with you, and all good things are possible.”

Gellert squeezed Albus’ hand and kissed Albus on the cheek. “I love you.”  
Albus hummed an acknowledgment before replying, "And I love you,” still holding Gellert’s hand and looking out over the sand at the moon and the starry sky.  
It was so good to be back, to no longer be clouded by the Wand, to really know that Gellert loved him, would never intentionally hurt him or betray him. Albus felt like himself again.  
He began thinking about the ritual, about Gellert’s use of a ritual for purifying dark artefacts. He had not thought about the Wand in exactly that way when they were pursuing it, but the Wand certainly was a dark artefact. It had possessed him as surely as any of the cursed objects one could buy in Knockturn Alley. 

Already the purification ritual had helped, but the ritual to hold the Wand between the two of them… it was such a release to no longer be carrying the burden of the Wand himself. It was hard to understand how he had ever resisted sharing the Wand with Gellert. Gellert who he loved - with whom he wanted to share all things in common. Gellert whose quest it was in the first place. Gellert who might know more about the Wand than any other living person...  
Gellert who had not known that Albus would not be strong enough to resist the Wand’s voice – who had not known what that voice would be. He had not known. 

There were always so many unknowns, weren’t there? For instance, Gellert had not known when – what year – he would be performing the ritual, if he ever got the chance, which meant that he couldn’t have known –  
“Gellert – it seems strange that the equinox happened in the dark.”  
“Well it has to be dark somewhere. It happens at the same time across the globe, so – about half the world celebrates the equinox in darkness.”  
“Does it make a difference to the ritual? That the sun was not in our sky at the moment of the equinox?”  
Gellert bit his lip and nodded. “Yes. Yes it does.”  
Gellert did not elaborate, and Albus did not ask _exactly_ , but he did look at Gellert for a long moment, and then tilted his head in a questioning way.

Gellert laughed. “Fine, you. It made no difference to the binding, other than that we were bound to the Earth even as we were bound to the Wand. Doing the ritual in the day, we would be bound to the Sky.”  
Albus considered that Gellert was already drawn Skyward, and it might do him some good to be bound to the Earth.  
“And it made no difference to the way in which the power of the Wand was increased through bonding with the both of us, rather than just one. And it will be easier to hold in anonymity. Doing the ritual in darkness casts a hiddenness over the Wand.  
“But… the purification rite was a bit obscured. It was successful in purging the Wand of its tendency to encourage violence. If we use it to kill, or mortally injure, we will need to purge it afterwards, so it doesn’t redevelop bad habits, but we would have needed to do that anyway.”  
“Bad habits?”  
“We should choose how we use the Wand – we don’t want it to choose for us. When it tastes violence, it will – want more, I suppose is the way to say it. It will try to convince us to do it again. The point of purifying it was to quiet its voice, so that we are the ones in control.”  
“So – it sounds like it worked fine, then. How was it ‘obscured’?”  
“It worked to muffle the Wand’s voice in all ways but one: by my calculations, the Wand is still going to encourage us to be possessive of it, suspicious of everyone. Less than..." Gellert trailed off, but Albus knew what he meant. He meant less possessive, less suspicious than Albus had been, before Gellert had told him to lock the Wand away. Albus would rather forget that he had done that. He had already had a nightmare that past week about hexing Gellert without meaning to. But it was important not to forget, he supposed.  
"But we - I don't understand. I handed you the Wand and felt happy about it."  
"Right, yes. It doesn't apply to us – to each other - the binding ritual took care of that. But it may try to subtly alienate us from – everyone else. Friends, allies… it may make it difficult to make new contacts. We can’t have that. We are going to need to renew that aspect of the ritual, at a more appropriate time of day.”

That was very interesting. Albus had been wary of ritual magic after his first attempt – he had been perfectly satisfied to have Gellert be the one to research, design, and modify any rituals. But thinking through all of the little details and complexities…  
“Can I help?”  
“Help? With what?”  
“This new, targeted purification rite. I want to help. I want you to teach me – everything.”  
Gellert laughed. “You don’t ask for much, Love. Teach you everything?”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “Everything about how and when to perform a purification ritual, to start.”  
Gellert turned. “Albus?” Albus looked at Gellert, and Gellert smiled, then leaned in to kiss him. “I have been waiting so long for you to ask. Yes, I will teach you. I have been dying to teach you.”  
Albus grinned. It was always exciting to learn something new - and this was an entire branch of magic which was practically lost in Britain.

“How soon do we need to perform the new purification ritual? Does one already exist? Do you have a time in mind?”  
Gellert smiled. “Always so many questions! ’How soon?’ he asks. You should be asking _how soon_ does the sun rise? The answer is in two hours. In Krakow, a bed _exists_ , and I would like to get into it. Given those two facts, the _time_ I have in mind for returning to our room is right now.”  
“Gellert –“ Albus whined.  
“Albus,” Gellert responded, with a mischievous look on his face.  
“Can you at least tell me –“  
“At least tell you - ?”  
“Are you confident that there is a way to do it before, say, the Summer Solstice?”  
“Never stand between this man and knowledge! There is a ritual that I think will do for this, with only minor modifications. After we wake up, you and I can run the calculations, and _then_ we will know if that ritual will work, and when will be the best time – but we will want it to be as soon as safely possible. But sleep first, Schatz. I have been awake for almost 24 hours. The pillows are calling to me.”  
Albus laughed. “Never stand between this man and his bed. Let’s go then.”

Gellert got up and pulled Albus up to standing. He held out his hand for the Wand.  
“I want to give this a try myself. Hold on to me, Liebling.”  
Albus gave Gellert the Wand and pulled himself flush against him. Albus contentedly nuzzled up against Gellert’s neck … and they disappeared in a wink, as if they had evaporated, like moisture in the desert air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On my first re-read through Albus and Gellert’s argument about Albus being possessed (in a sense) by the Wand, I realized that the Wand was sounding a good bit like the Sauron’s Ring, and how it affected Gollum, then Bilbo, then Frodo. Hard to say that it is a coincidence given the number of times I’ve read the books and seen the movies. But – there are / will be a lot of differences too, so – try not to extrapolate too much.
> 
> I hope that I left you all in a pretty good place for now! Assuming the timeline remains the same, Albus and Gellert will finally be turning their faces towards the Ottoman Empire.
> 
> FWIW – [My playlist for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/49GKzWXOxsUfbZCo6ULmQr) can be found on Spotify – it, like this fic, is still a work in progress.  
> See you in December!


	26. Albus Ruminates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought I knew that you applied your intellect to everything, but applying your intellect to our meals was something that I was not expecting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like “Art Lessons,” this chapter is an interlude chapter, in that it doesn’t follow directly in sequence, because it is concurrent with other chapters – I pulled these bits out so that I could make the Elder Wand story more coherent, and also because they were thematically connected. While working to acquire the Elder Wand, Gellert and Albus were (of course) continuing to eat – and Albus was having some insights about… food!  
> This chapter takes place during chapters 21, 22, and 23 (or, in the AO3 index, 23,24,25) – in Königsberg, Thorn, and Krakow.

Chapter 23 ½  
February - March 1900, continued

The day after arriving in Thorn, Gellert and Albus took the train into Königsberg, in order to find a good apparition point for future trips. As a result, they were becoming very familiar with one or two areas in Muggle Königsberg.  
That first week, they were having supper at a restaurant in Königsberg before returning home. Albus had said that he had a theory that he wanted to discuss, and that the venue was important.  
“So, Albus, what did you want to talk about?”  
With his spoon, Albus pointed to his dish and said, “Meatballs, potatoes, cream...”

Gellert laughed. “Our very important conversation is about food?”  
“Our very important conversation is about bringing down the Statute of Secrecy. And food. Gellert, how many wizards do you know that grow their own potatoes? Or own their own cows or pigs?”  
“What does that - ?”  
“Let me go back about two weeks. When we were at Wolf's you told me that Königsberg is famous for marzipan. How did you know? I’ve heard Muggles talking about it in Thorn and Vienna, but you didn’t know any Muggles before coming to Godric’s Hollow. You didn’t even know any Muggleborns.”  
“I went to Königsberg every summer for my school supplies, and to meet the ship to Durmstrang. We always got marzipan when we were there.”  
“In the Wizarding district.”  
“Of course.”

“Right. So – Wizards think of marzipan when they think of Königsberg, and Muggles think of marzipan when they think of Königsberg. Food traditions – typical local or regional foods - are shared between Muggles and Wizards. The difference in food cultures is dictated by place, not by who has and does not have magic. As another example – I ate this same dish two days ago in Wizarding Königsberg.”  
“And this has to do with politics - how?”  
“Right, all of that was just scene setting. Now we can go back to where the conversation began. Ingredients – in this case, the meat, the potatoes, and the cream – the food we eat comes from somewhere. Where? For families living in mixed towns, like Godric’s Hollow, we bought most of what we needed from Muggle stores. Where do Wizarding families living in isolation get their food? The families that live in Wizards only towns, or in manors, like your family or the Wurdiztals?”  
“I – wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask an elf, I suppose.”

“Exactly. The origins of your food are hidden, in a sense. Most pureblood families probably don’t know or even think about it. There are, I think, two basic options for where every Wizard’s food comes from. Either the food comes from Muggles, or it comes from slave labour. Maybe some combination of the two.”  
“Slave labour?”  
“Elves, Squibs, the Muggleborns you supposedly don’t have in this part of the world... But I don’t think that there are really enough Muggleborns or Squibs to be growing all of the food we need. Maybe not enough elves, either.  
“We could consider Muggle serfs as existing in both categories. There is still a kind of feudalism in a good bit of Eastern Europe – it’s fading, but it’s not completely gone. The wealthier families might have Muggle serfs. If so, such a practice is probably not widespread.  
“Muggles may not produce all of our food. It is possible that slave labour is involved in some of our food production. But if Muggles are not providing all of our food, then they are certainly providing most of it.”

“You’re saying that we are already breaking the Statute of Secrecy in order to get food.”  
“Not necessarily, no. No, I’m saying that relying on Muggles for food means that their food shortages and famines and other problems therefore affect us."  
This next part, Albus was more worried about. He had to be clear that Gellert's visions were important, that he believed Gellert. But - “Your visions of these wars and terrible weapons and so on that the Muggles will unleash and so threaten our world – this can continue to be _our_ reason to change our relationship with the Muggles – to find a way to intervene. The direction the world is going under Muggle rule is terrifying, and you are absolutely right, Love, they have to be - redirected. But not everyone knows you like I know you. It is going to be difficult to convince most Wizards and Witches of the dangers of things that do not exist yet. If we want supporters, we need to give them reasons that they can touch and see right now. Most people - even most Magical people - are not very good at thinking about the future.”  
What they wanted were results. They didn’t need everyone’s reasons to be the same as their own, as long as they were working towards the same goal. Whatever it took to motivate people. And aeroplanes? Hypothetical flying machines were not going to motivate that many people.

“And you are suggesting that instead of war, we talk to them about - food?"  
"Food affects people every day. And already, there have been problems with the Muggle food supply that have affected Wizards and Witches.  
“The Irish potato famine – there used to be a vibrant Wizarding community in Ireland, but almost all of them apparated to Britain and never went home.  
“In Milan, just two years ago, the wheat crop failed, and the prices went up, and not everyone could afford bread. The Muggles in Turin were still talking about it when we were there. How many Wizards do you know who grow their own wheat? This must have made a difference to Wizarding households in northern Italy as well.”

“So - we should be helping the Muggles avoid food shortages, which helps us too, because we are eating Muggle food?”  
“Yes. That is it exactly. You want us to get involved in Muggle politics? This is where to begin. This is how we convince Wizarding communities that it is necessary. ‘Do you want to be the next Ireland?’ If Witches and Wizards had been in control, if they had even been permitted to get involved, the potato famine would never have spread so far so fast.”  
Better still, anyone who had heard this argument would be receiving constant reminders of the danger of Muggle self-rule, every time they ate. Which meant multiple times daily, in safe and familiar places. Albus liked the idea of rendering the dining room table a place just uncomfortable enough to spur a Wizard to action.

“What is this potato famine?” Gellert asked.  
Honestly. This had been international news. Was it because Gellert was a Pureblood, and this had been considered Muggle news (outside of Britain, anyway)?  
“The staple crop in Ireland is potatoes. All of their potatoes rotted across the whole island. They turned into inedible black mush. The entire crop for the year was lost. Then they lost the next year’s crop as well. It was a disaster. Of course, many Pureblood families could afford imported food. But almost all of the Halfbloods and Muggleborns were affected, and so they left. This, in turn, affected the Purebloods, because the Halfbloods and Muggleborns, and less well to do Purebloods, were the ones running all of the businesses in Dublin and Cork. The Wizarding Districts simply shut down.  
"It’s not that there are no Witches and Wizards in Ireland anymore, but there is very little in the way of a Wizarding Community. So arguably, they don’t have their own country anymore. For example, they rely on Britain’s DMLE, because they can no longer staff their own."  
And then there was the part that would more concern people like Gellert - people who had attended Durmstrang:  
"But what some would consider even worse is that there are not Wizards and Witches enough to learn the old ways and pass them on - a unique magical culture is being lost. It is likely that the ancient ritual spaces have already fallen out of use completely. All because Wizarding intervention in a Muggle food shortage would be illegal.”

“Albus! This is terrible! How did I not know about this?"  
Probably because Durmstrang wizards thought nothing that happened in the British Isles was interesting or relevant. And the whole 'Purebloods are woefully uninformed about Muggle problems' thing. Albus did not see how Gellert would ever have become aware of the dangers posed by Muggles if it weren't for his visions. Many Central and Eastern European Wizards had no contact with Muggles at any point in their lives.  
"Well, that's just it - I imagine that no one in this part of Europe knows about it. But if they did know..."  
Gellert nodded. "Yes... This could be useful to us. Very useful. But I still don’t understand why you were talking about regional foods?”  
“I don’t know that that insight really helps us. Most wizards would probably be offended if we brought that up. You know, ‘I really enjoyed your Königsberger klopse – it was almost as good as the version I had at the Muggle restaurant down the street.’ Not going to win us any allies. But it is interesting!”  
Gellert laughed. “Very interesting, mein Kätzchen. But yes, we will just have to quietly benefit from that ourselves.”

Gellert continued, “You, Albus, are brilliant. I thought I knew that you applied your intellect to everything, but applying your intellect to our meals was something that I was not expecting.”  
“I don’t think I would have thought of it before travelling. Eating the same dishes in Muggle and Wizarding areas is what triggered the thought, I think. First, I realized that somehow Wizards and Muggles were sharing the same recipes, and then it occurred to me that that made sense, since they were working from the same ingredients list – whatever Muggles are growing in the area, whatever they are importing.”

“We will need to talk with some elves, just to confirm where they are getting their food.”  
“Do you think that we could delegate that, somehow? It seems that an elf is more likely to talk to one of its masters. Or at least to someone they like and are familiar with.”  
Gellert thought. “I suppose we could ask – Bozena? Wolf maybe? Perhaps that is risky, though. If by asking they find out about the Muggleborns, they might – I don’t know what they might do.”  
“Otto could do it.”  
“No, Albus. I don’t want to involve him. He’s too young. He’s –“  
“He’s perfect, Gellert. There isn’t anything dangerous about simply asking the question. He’s strong enough not to shut down in the face of new information, and he’s too cautious to investigate further or act on it – he would just find out, hand off the information, and be done with it. You have said that he can occlude as well as you can. The elves are devoted to him, and he is devoted to you. You said yourself that he is looking for ways that he can be of use -”  
Gellert was beginning to look angry. “Listen, Albus. My brother is not one of your pawns. Drop it.”  
Albus sighed. Gellert had gotten into the habit of protecting Otto when they were young, but he really didn’t need to do it anymore. Otto could take care of himself. But it wasn’t worth arguing over. It would not go well for Albus if Gellert got the idea that he didn’t care about Otto.

“Yes, ok. We’ll find another way. Perhaps one of our contacts in France. That way we don’t have to worry about uncovering some conspiracy to enslave Muggleborns.” Though that had been part of the point. And would a Bohemian, say, find whatever they learned about France to be relevant? But... there could be advantages to starting in France instead. They had a strong base there, and Lord Dupuis would be pleased if they gave him actionable information – it would give him the feeling of having a return on his investment, and so strengthen that connection. And Lord Dupuis and Mr. Allard would be sure to turn whatever Albus’ contacts found into dinner party conversation, which would free Albus and Gellert from having to push the agenda in France at all – another task delegated.  
“Ask Jean Pierre,” Gellert suggested. “His family has house elves, but they also operate that Muggle vineyard.”  
“Yes, good idea.” Albus would send an owl to Jean Pierre as soon as they returned to Thorn for the evening.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

One afternoon, Gellert came into their rooms in Thorn with a bag from the bakery.  
“I brought you some more gingerbread.”  
‘Some more’ because, since they had first discovered it, Gellert had been buying Albus gingerbread every day. They hadn’t spent much time exploring Thorn – they had been so preoccupied preparing to obtain the Wand. They spent more of their waking hours in Konigsburg than Thorn, and when they were in Thorn they were usually in their rooms, making plans or working on potions or studying. But they had to eat. And as long as they had to eat, Albus often said, they may as well eat well.  
Gellert had taken to teasing him that he was the easiest man to keep happy in the world. ‘Give you a ginger biscuit, and you’ll agree to anything.’ Which was not, strictly speaking, true. But it was almost true in Thorn. Albus had learned that their gingerbread had the reputation for being the best in Europe, and he could at least agree that it was the best he had ever tasted.

Albus reached for the bag, and Gellert held it behind his back. Albus stood up, drew up against Gellert, and kissed him – while reaching behind Gellert and taking the bag. He pulled away.  
“You fall for this every time,” said Gellert, smiling.  
“You know very well that you do not need to lure me with gingerbread in order to get me to kiss you. Or you would have spent some very lonely months before now.”  
“Ah, but now that you have found this gingerbread, how am I to compete?”

Albus rolled his eyes affectionately. He opened the bag – two biscuits. Hmm. Maybe the bakery had run out? He pulled out a biscuit and held it out to Gellert.  
“Oh no – those are both yours. I ate mine on the walk back. I couldn’t wait.”  
“And now you are going to have to watch me eat mine! How awful – I’m fine eating just one.”  
“You are not!” Gellert laughed. “Shame on you, lying to your husband like that.”  
“Well, I didn’t say it was what I preferred, but it isn’t going to kill me to eat one biscuit. Honestly.”

Gellert smiled. “Albus, that sort of thing doesn’t bother me like it does you. I don’t really get snack envy.”  
Albus felt a bit offended. “Everyone gets snack envy!”  
“No, they really don’t. It’s fine that you do, but – “  
“Very well. As you wish. I will eat two biscuits right in front of you, then.”  
Albus sat back down at the desk, dipped the first biscuit in his tea, and began eating it.

“Tell me.”  
That was Gellert’s cue to share any visions he had had that day.  
“Mmm. It was a slow day. The bakery is going to go out of business.”  
“No! When?!”  
“Not for another eight years. Don’t worry. There will still be gingerbread in Thorn.”  
“Anything else?”  
“A well-fed wizard and his brilliant companion are going to take very good care of each other in bed this evening.”  
“Somehow I’m thinking that this is more conjecture than it is a vision.”  
“I’d say that it is something more than conjecture. I’d go so far as to call it a near certainty.”

“Well, setting the time as this evening makes things considerably more certain. The rest of my afternoon is fairly busy.”  
“Oh?”  
“I have several letters to write to friends in Britain, but the most difficult is the one I was working on when you came back with the gingerbread.”  
“Aberforth?”  
“Telling him that I’m not going to be home for the summer… I hate the idea of him stuck at Hogwarts all summer long. The way Headmaster Black has been using our sister politically – I can’t imagine that he’s leaving Aberforth alone. Who knows what he is putting him through. I wish there were some way for him to – I don’t know. I would say ‘join us,’ but that would be miserable for everyone involved. I have no idea what he wants, or what he has been doing…”  
“Perhaps you could send him a message via house elf. That way, if he is not responding because he is concerned that owls are not secure…”

“I don’t know Gellert. This absolute silence... he could have sent _some sort_ of response. It wouldn't have to be personal. I know he’s angry, but – “  
“Have you told him that? 'I know you're angry'? Have you - talked about you leaving him behind at all?”  
Who was this Gellert? He was just one step away from suggesting that Albus apologise! Perhaps it was easier for Gellert to feel kindly towards Aberforth when he wasn’t threatening his time with Albus. Albus himself found he liked Aberforth much better when he was more than a thousand miles away. And having not heard from Aberforth at all, it was easier to imagine him sympathetically.  
“I have just been – ignoring the whole mess. Sending him, ‘this is what I am doing, how are you?’ sorts of letters. I also did not know if his mail was being checked. I didn’t want to send anything too personal. But perhaps you are right. I’ll tell him that I am sorry that I have not been available to have a better sense of what he wants and needs, and ask him what he wants from his summer, and then I will do what I can to make that happen. After all, I’m still his primary guardian, legally speaking. Black is just – provisional.”  
“That’s a good start,” Gellert agreed. He drew a chair up across from Albus, and nudged his foot against Albus’. Albus smiled and nudged back.

“Are you looking to be distracting? Or looking to be helpful?”  
“Both?”  
Albus grabbed Gellert’s hand and kissed it. “Both. Yes you are.” Albus set down the quill that he had just picked up, and picked up his second biscuit.  
“I have been wondering about gingerbread.”  
“Of course you have.”  
“Thorn has been famous for gingerbread since well before the Statute of Secrecy. But there is no Wizarding District here. Was there a Wizarding bakery that moved to Krakow? Or – have the people of Wizarding Poland given up Thorn’s gingerbread? Do they get it somehow through Muggle sources? Or have they totally forgotten that this wonderful gingerbread even exists? Surely they couldn’t have forgotten.”

Gellert bumped his knee against Albus'. “Albus Dumbeldore, you can always be counted on to ask the truly important questions.”  
“Mmmm. You can make fun, but we need to get more Purebloods out learning about Muggle things. If the only feelings they have towards Muggles are fear and disdain, then opening up the door between our worlds could lead to a bloodbath. The transition would be cleaner if Purebloods saw Muggles in all of their complexity: their capacity for destruction, their ineptitude, their inability to rule themselves… but also their art and their food and their trains. Aeroplanes and gingerbread.”  
“And how will we do that?”

“Delegate?”  
“Naturally," answered Gellert, shaking his head. "I suppose you are thinking to pair Half-Blood and Muggleborn contacts with Pureblood contacts. Which would work not at all in the Durmstrang region. How do you suggest we do this with Wizards and Witches in Bohemia and Poland and Prussia and Austria and so on?”  
“That is more difficult. We might need to rely on travel – make connections when they travel in the areas served by Beauxbatons or Hogwarts. Or we might need to take this task on ourselves, as we did with Wolf. And once we have initiated someone into the Muggle world, they might in time choose to take someone themselves, and so on.”  
“Perhaps. It is worth considering in any case.”

Albus returned to his letter writing, and Gellert began scratching away on his own parchment. Spell creation, most likely, Albus supposed, looking away from his letter for long enough to catch Gellert gently gnawing on his thumb, the way he did when he was stuck. He could look at Gellert all day long. But then he wouldn’t get anything else done. Albus sighed and looked back down at his letter to Aberforth, the letter he had been working on for an hour now – the letter that was still nothing but a blank page.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Muggle Poland was not Poland at all, and hadn’t been for some time. The area that was Wizarding Poland had been divided by the Muggles between Prussia and Russia and Austria. So while in Wizarding terms they had barely travelled at all when leaving Thorn for Krakow, in Muggle terms, they had crossed the border from Germany to Austria. For the Muggles, the border had crossed them - or their ancestors, anyway. It reminded Albus of something Bozena’s twin sister, Bohdana, had said: ‘The Muggles are changing their borders all the time. I don’t understand how they can live with such volatility. I am glad that their endless battles don’t affect Wizarding areas, usually – but we have to keep track of their politics just in case.’ If Gellert’s visions were realized, then those endless battles would certainly affect Wizarding families. 

Over the course of their first week or so in Krakow, Albus’ thoughts had become increasingly violent and paranoid. He became fixated on aeroplanes and their bombs – with the problem of Muggle weapons that were destructive on a large scale. For centuries, Wizarding families had been affected by war through the secondary effects only – largely famine. The actual violence did not reach them. Of course, no weapons were deterred by notice-me-not and Muggle repelling charms. But as long as Muggles were aiming the weapons, Witches and Wizards were not in the line of fire. There were occasional casualties, largely because of bad aim, but Wizarding families were safe, for the most part, from Muggle warfare. That might not be true for much longer. Albus could not stop thinking about it, and thinking up ways to kill enough Muggles to even the odds between Muggles and Wizards.  
Once the Wand had been purged (at least somewhat), and bound to both himself and Gellert, Albus began to inventory all of the ways his thinking had been slowly twisted by the Wand. It was not that he had never had the thought that some Muggles might be better removed, but indiscriminate thinning of their ranks, as if Muggles were interchangeable? Such a thing had never occurred to him before. The natural world and Muggles themselves were already good enough at indiscriminately reducing the Muggle population, to tragic effect. Albus would have been ashamed of having had the thought at all, but he had lingered over it for days, and still he was not able to shake it completely. 

The remedy, he thought, would likely lie in spending time wandering around Muggle Krakow, reminding himself of what he had been talking about with Gellert just a couple of weeks before – Muggles were complex, just like Witches and Wizards. They were not only dangerous, they were not only thoughtless – they were not monolithic, for that matter. They were many things. Some of them were likely better eliminated, yes. But many of them were not. Some of them, for example, were excellent cooks.  
Walking back from dinner, Albus remarked, “I will miss Pierogies when we go to Constantinople.”  
“I imagine that you will find foods in Constantinople that you will miss if we ever return to Poland.”  
Probably. The wonderful thing about travel was discovering new things. The awful thing about travel was discovering new things and then leaving them, knowing you would find them nowhere else.

Gellert broke the silence with a cryptic, “We came to Krakow too early.”  
'Too early.' That meant... “And if we had waited? If we had come later?”  
“Well, if we had waited about a year and a half, we could have taken a streetcar back to the hotel.” Albus liked walking, but he liked Gellert sharing what he was seeing more, so he didn’t say anything about being just as glad to have missed streetcars.  
“Are you in a particular hurry?”  
“Yes, I am in a hurry to get you back to the room, so that I can -”  
“Gellert!” Albus admonished, cutting him off. They had been trying a ‘live like Muggles’ evening, so Albus had not cast a spell over their speech.

“That is, yes I am in a hurry. And if you were to, for instance, walk into that alley, I would tell you why.”  
Albus shook his head. “You, sir, are only two blocks away from being able to show me why. I am not going with you into any alleys when there is more privacy and comfort to be had elsewhere.”  
Not to mention less haste. Albus had been enjoying these past few days post-equinox – especially his rediscovery of how much he loved and trusted and needed Gellert. Albus intended to spend all evening worshiping his body – Gellert was worth taking his time over - Gellert was everything - and Albus was going to make certain that he knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said December, but I couldn't wait.
> 
> Besides, my sci-fi novel hit a roadblock when I got bogged down in the astrophysics. So - may as well come back to Greater Good early :)


	27. Blood Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a history behind Gellert's feelings about when killing can be justified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gellert’s father is a violent asshole, and we are going to hear a bit about him physically (and emotionally) abusing Gellert.  
> Another Warning: We are going to hear about Gellert’s experience with killing – it might be somewhat distressing, so heads up.
> 
> But there is good news: We hear from Otto!

Chapter 24  
April 1900

Budapest was beautiful, but Albus knew they were not going to be there for long. He hoped they would return one day, but for now, they were both eager to finally make it to Constantinople, so they had come from Krakow to Budapest only as a waypoint. In four days, they would be departing Budapest by train. Gellert had heard that the Orient Express had a sleeper car, and he would not stop talking about all of the things they might do in a bed on a train. Albus suspected it would not be terrifically different from a bench on a train, but he knew he only stood to benefit from Gellert’s enthusiasm.  
In the meantime, Gellert was working on his portkey tattoo idea, and Albus was finishing writing up a patent application for his powdered stewed doxy wings.

The first morning, Gellert and Albus were sitting in bed together, Gellert reading and Albus writing, when an owl came to the window. “That’s Wolf’s owl!” Gellert said in surprise. He allowed the owl in, then closed the window, trapping the owl inside. “We should keep it here for a day or two – make it seem that it took longer.” He gave the owl a bit of stale crescent roll and removed the letter from its leg. As he read the outside of the still sealed letter, he began to frown.  
“A.D.” he murmured thoughtfully. Gellert turned to look at Albus with a distinctly unfriendly expression.  
“Albus. This is Otto’s handwriting. Not Wolf’s. Why is my brother writing to you? I told you –“  
“Gellert, I haven’t written him, I promise. Not about the food, not about anything.”  
Albus noted that Gellert did not look any less angry after this assurance. 

“He hasn’t written to you since you left home, right?”  
Gellert gave a curt nod.  
“It seems to me that he is likely meant not to contact you. Or that he fears that anything he sends to you might be intercepted and read. But now that he knows that you and I are together all the time, and that he has an ally in Wolf – now he has a way to contact you without using his own owl, and without having your name on anything. The letter, however it is written or addressed, is, I imagine, to you.”  
“So, if I were to open it…”  
Albus was trying very hard not to take Gellert’s suspicion personally. He told himself that it was endearing, that Gellert was so protective of his little brother that it made him irrational. Or, Albus anticipated that it would be endearing in retrospect. Right now, it was more along the lines of insulting.  
“I would be very surprised if it is not your letter, Gellert.”

Gellert opened the letter and scanned it silently. “Hmm. This is near inarticulate foolishness. Which makes me think… Wand?”  
Albus tossed the Elder Wand to Gellert, who caught it in his outstretched hand. Gellert could just as well have summoned it wandlessly, but the Wand continued to reward them for passing it between one another – it was rare for one of them to use it without the other having handed it to them. Even tossing it like this, Albus felt a glow of warm satisfaction just as the Wand left his hand, erasing all of the annoyance towards Gellert that had been building up in him those past few minutes.  
Gellert held the Wand above the parchment.  
“Oh, very clever,” Gellert said rolling his eyes. “Well, you were both right and wrong, Albus. It is to you, but he is clearly intending for you to read it aloud to me.”

“How wonderful! But will you read it out loud to me instead? You and Otto have the same facial expressions, and the same speech patterns. It will be so much easier to imagine him saying it if you are the one reading it.”  
“We do not!” That indignation was adorable – and absolutely identical to Otto’s reaction after Wolf had mussed his hair.  
“You certainly do. It was the funniest thing. I can’t wait – “ Albus had almost said, ‘until I can see the two of you together in one place,’ but he knew that was a sore point. Gellert and his brother were unlikely to be in the same room again until Otto was of age and had control over his own movements. Which was nearly another two years.

“I can’t wait to hear your interpretation of it.”  
Gellert narrowed his eyes, clearly knowing that that was not what Albus had been about to say, but he didn’t push it. Instead he turned back to the letter and scanned it quickly.  
“The chipmunk has outdone himself. I believe you may be a bad influence on him.”  
“I do not believe you can lay much at my door. I only spoke to him for 15 minutes. You might do better to look to yourself. Let me hear it.”  
“Very well…

_A,  
I apologize to both you and your friend for revealing the personal information I am about to share with you. I can only imagine that this letter will cause you trouble with your idiot travelling companion, and for that I am sorry. Do assure him that I would not have involved you if I had seen any other way to proceed, but that his inability to take care of himself adequately leaves me with no other choice. I am writing in the hope that you will be able to impress upon him that his liberation was for appearances only, and that there is one who would be just as happy to have him removed from his family altogether, and not by the usual means. As for me, I would not be happy at all, being excessively fond of him in spite of everything, but it seems that there is very little I can do at this time, not least because some overprotective bastard has forbidden it.  
I wish that I were better equipped to return the many favours he did me over the years, with such wanton disregard for his own safety. Do not allow him to pretend to not know what I mean. He may think I didn’t notice, but I am neither naïve nor stupid. It would have been difficult to miss. He knows better than anyone, first-hand, how dangerous and unfeeling the man is that he was protecting me from, and he has my gratitude, whether he wants it or not.  
I have the feeling that our mutual friend was humouring me when we spoke last, and is not taking this threat seriously, which I should have predicted. In my absence, I must leave the task of browbeating him to you. I have not yet been able to determine how far along our mutual enemy is with his plans, as I have not found an opportunity to speak with the elves. The no personal elf policy is at Durmstrang is draconian, as our friend well knows.  
I do understand that I am offering no helpful information as of yet. But I insist that, until I have actionable information, you keep to Muggle areas as much as possible, that you stay well clear of anyone who knows the villain, and that if you must interact with one of his associates, you thoroughly test all consumables, at a minimum. I will hold you personally responsible if anything happens to that reckless moron. He is far too delightful to be left to his own devices. What would we do without him?  
Yours,  
The Voice of Prudence_

It had been too wonderful hearing Gellert sarcastically heap fond abuse upon himself. Albus set his papers and Gellert’s book aside and reached out towards Gellert.  
“Come here, you reckless moron.”  
Gellert smiled weakly, set the letter down on the desk, and joined Albus on the bed again. Albus wrapped his arms around him. “I love you.”  
“Oh?”  
“Very funny. Surprised are you?”  
Gellert didn’t answer, kissing him instead. He looked at Albus. “About my father – I – Otto may have been -“

“Do not even say ‘exaggerating’. I am all too aware that your father is a horrifying man who is capable of anything.”  
“Albus, you couldn’t possibly know –“  
“Gellert. I don’t think I ever told you how I found your missing memories, the morning after the ball?”  
Gellert sighed. “No, you didn’t.”  
“I know you probably think I’m changing the subject…”  
“Not at all. I imagine you saw some memories of my father, and you are about to explain how that happened, so… go on.”

“Gods. I love you, Gellert.”  
It was the most amazing feeling, being so readily understood.  
Gellert kissed Albus. “I love you too, but I believe we were having a conversation involving Legilimency and my father?“  
“Right. Ok.” Albus sighed. He would much rather be kissing Gellert than talking about his father, but this conversation was overdue.  
“I knew that the memories we were looking for would be relatively inaccessible – obviously – since you literally were unable to access them yourself. So that meant that they wouldn’t be on a path, but would be in the forest.”

“What forest?”  
“In your mind – your thoughts are organized in… there’s a forest. You didn’t do that on purpose?”  
“I think maybe my brain organized itself differently for you, somehow. Interesting. Proceed.”  
“Right – we’ll – have to get back to that. I didn’t know that could happen. Anyway, I shifted into a lynx, and… followed the smell of alcohol into the forest. I started with the places where the scent of alcohol was strongest...”  
“I see,” said Gellert. His tone of voice was hard, final, as if he were trying to bring the conversation to a close. But the look in his eyes was sad, and Albus wished he could lead Gellert back out of whatever memory he was caught up in. 

“Tell me, Love. What is it?”  
“Don’t you know already?” Gellert asked, sounding resentful.  
There were too many choices – Albus couldn’t possibly guess what Gellert was reliving. Albus had put off sharing his method because he had come across so much more that what he had been looking for, things he had guessed that Gellert would rather he hadn’t seen – particularly an extraordinary number of alcohol-soaked memories of Gellert’s father. No part of the forest was free of that man’s hatred.  
“I – would rather you tell me.”  
“You saw too many memories to know what’s bothering me, you mean.”  
Albus squeezed Gellert more tightly instead of answering. 

“My visions made Father...” Gellert drifted off, as if he didn’t wish to say.  
“Angry?”  
“He hit me and told me I was foolish, and that visions were for unmarriageable Witches. Not for decent Wizards who knew better.”  
If Albus had not felt like killing that man before…  
“Gellert, you are brilliant. And powerful. Everything about you is just as it should be. I wish I could take away everything that has ever been said to you that suggested you were anything less than perfect. Your visions – your father was probably upset that you could do something that he couldn’t. Or afraid of what he could not understand. Your visions are driving you to change the world in a way that is going to be better for everyone. You are better than a decent Wizard. You are a remarkable Wizard. A singular Wizard.”  
Gellert was silent. 

“Gellert? I’m sorry, but – I think we should talk about it - Otto said that you protected him…?”  
“I’m – not really sure what he means? I took the blame for things Otto did once or twice…”  
“What Otto was referring to – it sounded like something that happened more than once or twice.”  
Gellert shut his eyes and buried his face in Albus’ chest, before turning his head just enough to speak and breathe. He spoke so quietly that Albus had to concentrate to hear him.  
“Father would sometimes, when he had been drinking, it was easy to tell that he was looking for something to take his anger out on. So – whenever I was afraid his attention was about to drift towards Otto, I would – provoke him.”  
So that their father would focus on Gellert and leave Otto untouched. Yes. Albus had seen that happen many times. Gellert was disturbingly familiar with Skele-Grow for a person of any age – but to be only 17… Albus couldn’t imagine a professional Quidditch player or even a Hit Wizard being injured so much in a lifetime as Gellert had been between the ages of six and sixteen.

“Gellert, I’m glad that you are no longer living in his home, but I am terrified that he really will try to kill you. It would be entirely true to his character. Although I think that Otto is wrong to suspect poison. I imagine he would not be satisfied with anything less than rendering your body unrecognizable.”  
“Albus,” Gellert said, brokenly. “It was not that bad. Really.”

Oh. Did Gellert not know the worst of it? Likely not. It was deep in the wilderness. It would make sense that memories in the farthest reaches of the wilderness would be the things he had buried.  
Albus wrestled with himself – should he tell Gellert what he had seen? Should he tell him that he had become distracted from his task, had run desperately through Gellert’s mind looking for some memory of Gellert’s father holding even the smallest redeeming quality, and only found greater and greater cruelty?  
“Perhaps not – perhaps I just imagined – you are probably right that it was not so bad – Fuck!”  
That had been the wrong thing to do. Silence would have been far better.  
“Albus! Your hand!”

Albus was bleeding. Too late for silence. There was only way to stop the bleeding once it had started.  
“Gellert, it was terrible. Obviously you do not remember all of it, but almost all of your time at home was spent either suffering some kind of injury at his hand or recovering from those injuries. You had a house elf that would slow down the last little bit of the healing to give you a reprieve – a way to stay in bed reading a day or two longer. But soon you would become too worried about Otto and insist that she let you go. Gellert, he _shot you_ once. He killed your dog. He routinely hit you with cutting curses. He – I’m not going to go on – it’s too much, and you hid away the memories for a reason.  
“But if I didn’t think that Otto needed more time to grow up before taking on the responsibility of being Lord Grindelwald…”

“What would you do then, Albus? You would kill my father?”  
There was no need for Gellert to scold him. If he was able to anticipate what Albus was about to say, then surely he had had the thought as well.  
“Of course – he’s a terrible man – the way he hurt you –“

“Do you know what that house elf’s name was? The one who took care of me?”  
Why were they talking about a house elf now?  
“No – I didn’t –“  
“Zinnie.”  
“That’s a pretty –“  
“I killed her.”  
This was – what?! This conversation had officially taken a turn for the bizarre. Albus felt like he was on horse that had suddenly decided to bolt – he had no idea where he was headed, but he was going there against his will and quickly. This conversation had gone from difficult to terrifying in a moment.

“You – killed a house elf?” Albus asked tentatively, trying to scrub his voice of any judgment. Why would anyone kill a house elf? They were unilaterally helpful, generally without malice, and – well, capable of invisibility, which meant that, without careful planning, it would be too easy to be caught by another house elf, and – what would the consequences of _that_ be? _How_ would anyone kill a house elf?  
“Not _a_ house elf, Albus. I killed _my house elf_. The elf who loved me, who raised me, who, according to you, protected me from my father. She trusted me and I killed her.”  
Gellert had said no humans. But a house elf - Albus wondered if killing a house elf was _worse_ than killing a human. The idea of killing any house elf was - repulsive _might_ be too strong a word. And this particular elf – she might have been the only – person? could you call a house elf a person? – the only person besides Otto – and Wolf, he supposed - who had really known Gellert, before he met Albus. What could have possessed Gellert?  
Wait, no. Gellert had said ‘no humans’ in reference to _ritual _killing. Fuck. Who else had Gellert killed? Who else might Gellert be willing to kill if he had killed an elf? _His_ elf?__

____

____

“Do you know how hard it is to kill a house elf?”  
Now that he had made his confession, Gellert seemed unable to stop speaking.  
“Their magic is so powerful. And yet, it is easy to kill a house elf if it is your own, because they cannot refuse your orders. They are completely in your power. If you can make them injure themselves as a punishment, what can’t you make them do? Lie still as you drain their blood?”  
This was horrifying. Not for the first time, Albus was questioning whether he really knew Gellert at all.

“In retrospect, I don’t think that I even really wanted to kill her. But I told myself that it was important to know whether a house elf was an acceptable substitute for a Wizard in a ritual calling for a human sacrifice. Not that there was any real need for me to perform the ritual.”  
Albus wondered what the ritual had been for, and what it had involved. In any case, it was clear enough to Albus that killing a Wizard would have been a far better choice. Almost _any_ Wizard.

“Please, Albus, you have already killed one person on my account – My father is certainly not a good man, but killing him is unnecessary. Promise me that you will not kill him.”  
What – how -  
“Gellert, I’m sorry, but I - don’t see the connection?”  
“I would not have you do further damage to your soul, Albus. I love you. I –“  
After that revelation, _Gellert_ was worried about _Albus’_ soul?  
“Wait – “ Albus pushed Gellert off of his chest and sat up. “What do you mean _further_ damage?”

“This talk of killing my father, killing Gregorovitch’s wife – killing without a clear need in the moment, killing from a place of raw emotion… Please, I need you to stay whole. I need to believe that I have not broken you somehow.”  
What was whole? Albus had never been ‘whole,’ as far as he could remember. And what did Gellert mean by saying that he had somehow ‘broken’ Albus? The revelation about Gellert’s house elf slipped down Albus’ list of priorities, under the need to address Gellert questioning – no, mischaracterizing – Albus’ decisions.  
“Without a clear need in the moment? Gellert. Gregorovitch’s wife, she was dangerous! She was going to kill you!”  
Gellert propped himself up on his elbows.  
“But not when you killed her. You killed her after the danger had passed.”

 _That_ was the standard? Was no one ever to be punished after the fact for their crimes? Only in the moment? In Britain, she would have been thrown into Azkaban simply for casting a Cruciatus. Surely dying of dragon pox at home over the course of weeks was significantly more humane than being on a lonely freezing island, surrounded by Dementors for years.  
“It was justice, Gellert. She was hasty in her decision to kill a magic user simply as leverage in the torture and possible murder of another magic user. She was too ready to kill without justification.”  
“So, self-defense is not a justification? We were intruders in her house, with a wand out, in front of her husband’s door.”  
“I can accept a Cruciatus in self-defence –“ Not that Albus wanted to - it seemed an extreme first cast. But he wasn’t going to get far if he conceded nothing to Gellert, and it seemed casting a Cruciatus was deemed reasonable at Durmstrang.  
“But I cannot accept that an Avada – cast on someone already on the ground from a Cruciatus – is necessary to self-defence. I agree that she could not have known that we would not have killed her. But she had neutralized you effectively. Instead of proceeding to neutralize me as well, she elected to kill you, and that was – she was making reckless decisions about who to kill, and when, and why, and that’s dangerous.”

“I agree. But that is not why you killed her. You killed her for revenge - because you wanted to punish her for nearly killing me. You have found this ‘she was dangerous’ justification only after the fact.”  
“Yes, it was reactionary in the moment. I was angry, I agree. But – if she was the type of person to do something like that –“  
“I’m not arguing whether she was a ‘useful’ person, as you say. I’m just worried for you, Albus. When you kill an animal for a blood ritual, it opens a door. You want to do it again and again. Soon a small kill isn’t enough – you have to kill something bigger, or stronger, or smarter. The only way to avoid being consumed in bloodshed is to fight it, and evaluate each time – _must_ I kill? Is it _necessary_? To engage your logical brain in interrupting the impulse. It is the same as what I said about the Wand – you want to be the one making the decisions about whether and when to kill.”

“I _am_ the one deciding!”  
“Good,” said Gellert, falling back down onto his back. “Then you can decide not to kill my father.”  
Albus thought that there was a clear difference between making the decision himself and letting Gellert make the decision for him. He straddled Gellert and looked him in the eyes. “Look.”  
He wanted Gellert to see how insulting and bizarre, how dizzyingly disjointed he was finding this whole conversation, how they were moving from subject to subject so quickly that he did not have time to think, how he suspected that Gellert was doing this purposefully, to make it difficult for Albus to take an active role in the conversation, and how he felt about Gellert telling him he needed to make his own choices when it seemed he really meant making the same choices Gellert would make. But Gellert didn’t look.  
“No. You look.”

Albus growled. “Fuck you, Gellert - I have had enough of you leading me around by the nose like a fucking -”  
Gellert grabbed Albus’ shoulders and pulled him down roughly, slamming their mouths together so violently that Albus felt his teeth cut into Gellert's lip. He tasted blood. He hadn't tasted Gellert's blood since making the bloodpact, and he wanted it. He began sucking on Gellert's lip before he realized that - once again Gellert had taken charge in a way that had totally flipped the tables.  
Albus pulled away - somehow both reluctant and angry at the same time. “What the fuck, Gellert?!”  
Gellert looked away. “Yeah, ok. Wrong moment. It’s just – “ He looked back up at Albus appreciatively. “You are tremendously sexy right now. And there you were in grabbing distance...”  
Albus rolled his eyes. What were they even doing here? Right. Arguing about killing Gellert’s father? What had become of his life?  
He stared at Gellert. By all the gods, he was not going to be the first to cave.  
“Fine, Albus. I’ll look first. Will you look if I look?”  
“That seems fair.”

Gellert was gone for a long time – twenty seconds or more.  
“Sorry, Albus. You’re right. This conversation has been all over the place. I probably should have had you read me from the beginning. I promise that it is all connected. There’s just – too much of it, and I didn’t organize it very well for you. Just – take a look, ok? It will all make sense. Answers for all of your questions.”  
Gellert looked away for a moment, and asked quietly, “Is it – would it be ok for me to kiss you now?”  
For all the stars in the sky. Albus loved this man too much. It took so little to want to forgive him everything. Albus put his hand on Gellert’s face, gently turning his head so that their eyes met. “Not yet, Love. I have too many questions – you know I do."  
Gellert nodded hesitantly, and Albus broke. He bent down and kissed Gellert gently. He allowed Gellert to deepen the kiss for just a moment, but then pulled away.  
"I love you so fucking much, Gellert Grindelwald. I need you more than anything. But right now, needing you includes needing answers - you understand?"  
Gellert nodded, and Albus kissed Gellert once more before propping himself up.  
“Now, Gellert? Shall I look -?”  
“Now.”  
So Albus did.

He saw the first time Gellert killed for a ritual – pigeons that he sacrificed in the forest beyond Grindelwald Manor, as part of a ritual to protect Otto. He felt Gellert's surprise at the jolt of pleasure that came from taking a life. He saw Gellert studying to find more and more blood rituals. Soon, Gellert was killing pigeons, rabbits, deer, simply experimenting with different rituals. Albus felt Gellert's boredom, his need for something more – more dangerous, more transgressive, more bloody, more prolonged, more numerous.  
He saw Gellert trying to make up the difference by going out hunting with his father or with family friends – devising a spell to make an animal bleed out more slowly, another to revive an animal on the verge of death so that he could kill it again.  
Albus felt Gellert's hunger continue to grow, until hunting wasn’t enough, and rituals with small animals weren’t enough. He followed Gellert as he tracked and captured a wolf to use in a ritual. He felt... frustration mixed with fear, followed by satisfaction, ending in the ecstasy of finally draining the wolf of its blood in the ritual circle.  
But what was the ritual even for? Albus felt that Gellert couldn’t remember any more – the answer to that question had been discarded somewhere separate from the kill itself, the sensations that the kill had produced. Whatever the ritual had been, Gellert had overlaid the memory with an interpretation: the sense that, whatever the ritual had been, it had only been an excuse to track and kill something dangerous and elusive.

The kills came quickly after that, weekly at least. The sheer volume was more than Albus could comprehend. But Gellert seemed to be more in control in here than usual - he was pulling Albus onwards. Suddenly, Albus was experiencing what it felt like for Gellert to go three or more days without a kill - the anxiety, the insomnia, the itchy skin and restlessness.  
And then - Albus saw Gellert begin to wonder if it felt different to kill magical creatures. If he could go longer between kills if he were killing something different. He tried mooncalves, a jarvey, elwetritschen…

Albus was beginning to become ill. He wanted Gellert to let go of him, to let him move at his own pace. He was overwhelmed, and beginning to shut down. But Gellert pulled him onwards, into the library at Durmstrang, where he came across a ritual that required a human sacrifice. Gellert balked. He had drawn the line at humans. Albus was with Gellert as he tested the idea: what would it mean to kill another human being? He felt Gellert become intrigued, get wrapped up in studying the ritual, in making calculations. And then, Albus watched in horror as Gellert asked the question that Albus knew would lead to Zinne's death: would the ritual work as well with the sacrifice of some other being as a substitute for the human?  
Albus could tell that it had all been meant to be an intellectual exercise: house elves were like humans, but how could one kill a house elf… it could only be done if it were your own house elf… and then Albus was there in the woods, in his hand a knife dripping blood, standing over Zinnie, wondering how he had gotten there, and what it had all been for.

Albus began to pull out –  
“Gellert – I’m so –“  
“Albus,” Gellert said, “keep looking.”  
"I can't, Gellert. It's too much."  
"That's right. It is. It's too much. You can experience it this way, or you can live it yourself."  
Maybe not. It seemed to Albus that he was very unlikely to follow Gellert's path. To begin with, they had one another, and Gellert had been all alone. But - Gellert had been all alone. And the only way for him to no longer be alone was for Albus to keep looking, so he sank back into Gellert’s mind. Though not before wishing that Gellert would slow down.

House elves do not just disappear. Albus felt Gellert's fear that the other Grindelwald elves would know it was him, but they all seemed to suspect his father. Gellert was too genuinely bereft for them to suppose it was him.  
Albus felt Gellert’s grief and shame – he was there when Gellert would begin to call Zinnie and then remember she wasn’t there and why. Gellert had been cut adrift. The sacrifice had been made in the interim between Gellert being expelled from Durmstrang and being sent to Britain. Otto was at school, his parents avoided him, Zinnie was gone... so he had little to do but study – and think. Albus was there the day Gellert finished his review of every creature he had killed, every ritual he had performed - the day that he realized that only 6 of the many creatures he had killed ‘for rituals’ had actually been necessary kills. The rest had been frivolous. How had that happened?  
And then, just before leaving his parents’ house, Gellert had found a book that explained it – Albus sat with him as he opened the primer on blood sacrifice, as he read the pages warning of the intoxication – of ritual killing being more addictive than other kinds of killing. The book suggested that blood sacrifices were best performed by two or more people to spread out the impact. But more importantly, that once one had killed _anything_ in a blood ritual, every future kill _of any kind_ needed to be carefully examined, lest unnecessary killing lead to the Wizard losing control.

Gellert pulled Albus into his fear that he had slipped too far to ever safely kill another creature for _any_ reason – his feeling that he couldn’t trust himself to be able to tell what was necessary and what was not. Albus shared in Gellert's experience of the consequences of refusing to kill: feeling always too alert, unable to sleep or to keep still, his head almost buzzing with the need to kill. Albus went with Gellert to obtain a new ritual blade to keep with him at all times, as a reminder that he _could_ kill, but was choosing not to. Albus was not entirely sure that this was a sound strategy.

Albus saw the mournful and apologetic faces of the other Grindelwald elves on the day that Gellert was finally sent to Britain. Albus felt how hopeful Gellert had been that a fresh start in a new place would release him from his obsession, and his disappointment when it didn’t. Then the excitement, mixed with fear, when he realized that being expelled from Durmstrang had finally brought him to Albus. And one morning, Albus saw Gellert wake and realize that the insistent need to kill had receded. It wasn't gone, but it was managable at last.

“Gellert,” Albus whispered, bending down to kiss him. He ran his tongue along Gellert’s lips. Gellert let him in, and Albus gently stroked Gellert’s tongue with his own. He loved the feel of Gellert’s mouth, of his lips and his tongue.  
“I love you. Everything you are, everything you have been. You are mine forever, and I would choose you again right now, today.”  
Gellert looked away. “Albus, don’t. You don’t know it all yet. I didn't want to show you - I - I owe it to you to tell you. The vision of you in the snow? Covered in blood? I had already – the first blood ritual had been more than a year before. I was already caught up and I saw you there, and I – there was more than one thing that made you attractive to me. Your body, the look on your face – yes, obviously. But also, you destroying those rabbits – it was disturbing but also mesmerizing, erotic.  
"When we were in Paris, and you told me about the chicken and the fear you had that you would come to enjoy killing? I told myself later that I ignored it, that I had barely heard it because I was so excited about the blood pact and in such a hurry to prepare everything that I just – glossed right over it. But I keep wondering if I let it happen because I _wanted_ you to slide into the blood addiction so that you could become that man in the snow – someone who wouldn’t judge me, someone who was called by the blood as strongly as I was. I risked your autonomy because the idea of you killing was sexy to me!”

Albus sighed. “Gellert. Look at me.” He waited. Once Gellert’s eyes were on – well, on his nose, but close enough – he continued. “I am responsible for my own choices. First of all. Secondly, you don’t know why you didn’t say anything that day in Paris. Not really. There were probably lots of tangled reasons. If you need me to forgive you, I will, but I honestly don’t think there’s anything to forgive. And finally -”  
Albus paused long enough to grind against Gellert.  
“You find it sexy when I kill something?”  
Gellert groaned. “I never should have told you.”  
“No – tell me – what exactly –“

Albus vanished their clothes and reached down between them to grasp Gellert’s cock and begin pumping it.  
“Unnngh! Albus!”  
“Yes, that’s my name. Say it again."  
"Albus!"  
Albus smiled. This. This was what they needed now, after this crazy morning.  
"Tell me, Gellert. Tell me something I've done that made you need me.“  
“How did you even – I still don’t know – Gah! Albus! – I saw in your head – you could see the Dragon Pox moving?”  
Albus bent down to kiss Gellert. He still tasted of blood - was he imagining it?  
“I could. I could see it happening, the disease moving like a cloud, and I was the one moving it, directing where it should go, which person would live and which would die. Would you like to look in my mind and kill her with me? It was - I can’t describe it – I felt like a god.“  
Gellert’s breathing was becoming irregular. Not long now.  
“Or would you like to know how it feels to hold down a rabbit with my paws, and pull it apart with my teeth? ... How it feels to take the carcass in my mouth and shake it, splattering blood all over the –“  
“ALBUS!!!” Gellert’s come was everywhere. His body was shaking, and his cock was pulsing. When Gellert was spent, Albus licked Gellert’s neck and chin clean, and then kissed him deeply. He rested his forehead against Gellert’s, and noticed – Gellert was crying?

“Gellert?”  
“It’s – Albus – it is so easy to lose control. So easy. And by the time you realize you have lost control, it is too late. You have already killed something – someone - that you wish you hadn’t."  
The elf again. Gellert had been too young when he'd started, and he hadn't had any help. Albus understood why Gellert was scared, but he didn't have to be anymore. They had each other. Even the book had said it was better if you spread the burden.  
"I – we shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let you – just now - “  
Albus kissed Gellert’s temple, and rolled off so that he was lying beside Gellert.  
“It’s ok, Love. It’s ok. No one was hurt. It's just the two of us here - just you and me. It was just a fantasy, right?”  
Gellert laughed bitterly. “It’s a fantasy, Albus, when you are describing something that has never happened. Not when you are describing something that has happened and could easily happen again.”  
Ok, so they had different definitions of fantasy.

“I just wish – I wish that I didn’t find the idea of you killing people to be so attractive.”  
Albus found bringing Gellert off to murderous fantasies pretty hot, actually, and he had absolutely no qualms about it. But if it bothered Gellert, then he would try not to do it again. It was just that _Gellert had come so hard_. And Albus had been hoping that Gellert would talk him through some of his own kills while returning the favour. Not the elf, obviously, but the wolf had looked like an exciting kill – Albus had just skated over the surface of that one. But he _never_ wanted to make Gellert cry again, so –  
Gellert turned onto his side to face Albus. “You are a dangerous man, Albus Dumbeldore. And it is still more dangerous, how much I love you.”  
That was exactly how Albus felt about Gellert, nearly all the time.

“Gellert, I –“ Albus reached out to move a stray lock of hair from in front of Gellert’s face. But it fell right back. Albus sighed. “Your book said – and you have been saying – that it is important to have a justification for killing. But – does having a justification protect you at all? Or is it just as dangerous to kill either way?"  
“It is,” Gellert confessed. “Before the Elder Wand ritual, I had gone almost a year without killing a creature. But I missed it still. It was starting to get better, but now – now I can feel myself looking all the time for something to kill. I have the urge to give in, the feeling that I am, after all, a predator. And the sheep was necessary to protect us both, so I do not have the deterrent of regret. It has been a very uncomfortable week.”  
Which – made it sound like having a justification made the aftermath worse in some ways. This ‘justification’ guideline seemed aimed only at slowing down the pace of the killing – not at making any difference in the urge itself. Unless the difference was that the urge was more irresistible the more often one killed.

“Why did you not have _me_ kill the sheep, then?”  
“I already had enough to feel guilty for. You were against the very idea of taking the Wand, and then I surprised you, pressured you into being the one to hold it, without ever having discussed it with you. Not to mention that we had not yet had this conversation – I was worried that you were already beginning your slide into being controlled by the killing impulse, and that was my fault too. So, it seemed right for me to be the one to kill the sheep.”  
“You were punishing yourself.”  
“Not exactly…” Then Gellert corrected himself. “Perhaps yes.”  
“I don’t want you punishing yourself for things. I want you to talk to me. Don’t hurt yourself, please.”  
Gellert smiled weakly. “No promises.”  
No promises. Albus wouldn't push for now, but they would be discussing that again soon. Gellert had been punished enough by his life so far - he had accumulated enough punishments for five lifetimes. He deserved a rest.

“Did it help? Or make it worse? Making you come that way?”  
Gellert closed his eyes and didn’t answer.  
“Gellert –“ Albus placed his hand on Gellert’s shoulder, traced along Gellert’s collarbone with his thumb. “Love? Are you feeling more like killing now? Or less? Did this satisfy the urge at all?”  
Gellert grabbed Albus’ hand and pushed it away. “I shouldn’t have the urge in the first place!”  
“But you do. And you don’t want to kill anything, so – “  
“It helps in the moment –“  
“Good!” Albus answered, moving in quickly for another kiss. Gellert dodged.  
“It helps in the moment, but I think in the long-term it is just feeding the beast.”  
The beast wasn’t going to die of starvation. Feeding it did not seem an altogether bad idea.

“Not that I am going to be able to stop myself from fucking you into the wall every time you kill somebody,” Gellert muttered.  
Albus moaned, remembering the night they brought home the Wand. Albus thought that had just been about the relief of them both surviving, but that had also been – blood intoxication? The promise of sex like that was not exactly a deterrent to further murders. Not that Albus had any inclination to point that out at the moment.  
“Gellert – please - “  
Gellert brought Albus’ hand to his mouth, and sucked in two of his fingers. Gods! Why did that fell so good? Gellert began running his tongue between Albus’ fingers and Albus groaned. Gellert removed Albus’ fingers and Albus replaced his fingers with his mouth. He needed Gellert desperately - whatever he could give, Albus would take.

Gellert pushed Albus away for a moment. “You are perfect, Albus. Absolutely perfect. I love you. Just – be careful, ok? You are mine, and I don’t want anything else trying to claim you. Not the Wand, not the blood, nothing. I’m a jealous man, my Love. I want your will to be your own, so that you are free to keep choosing me.”  
This man – the magic he was capable of, the knowledge he had acquired, all that he had seen and done and endured – how could Albus ever be tempted by anything, anyone but this man?  
“I will always choose you,” Albus replied. Then he claimed Gellert’s mouth again, rolled them so that he was on top of Gellert, and cast a lubricating and stretching spell. When at last he entered Gellert, every thought slipped out of his head but, ‘You are mine.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise - not all of the sex from here on out will be murder sex. Not even most of it. But - there will be some. I can post warnings for murder sex in the future if anyone needs it.
> 
> Somehow, the original draft of this chapter was _at least_ twice as angsty. If you can imagine. Lucky for all of us, the content didn’t seem true enough to the characters to stick with it.  
> I know this is long – maybe the longest chapter so far - I don’t suppose it makes things better to point out that I left more than 9000 words on the proverbial cutting room floor? Not to mention the words that ended up pushed into the next chapter…


	28. Past, Present, Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up directly from the previous chapter (moments after the last chapter ends), so you might want to read the last few paragraphs of that first, if you need a recap.

Chapter 25  
April 1900, continued

There was no feeling in the world like being inside of Gellert – connected, one body with no separation. Albus had been leaning down far enough to bite and lick Gellert’s neck, to smell him, but now he pushed up so that he could look at his gorgeous husband. Albus’ eyes trailed slowly up Gellert’s body finally reaching his eyes. His beautiful – wait. Gellert looked – unhappy? Or – occluded maybe? Albus slowed and stopped. He brushed his fingertips along Gellert’s hairline.  
“Angel? What is it?”  
“Albus – you don’t have to stop – I’m ok.”  
“Gellert, I do have to stop. And you’re not – anyway, it’s not enough for you to be just ok. If you’re not feeling -”  
“I’m right here with you – I’m –“  
Albus sighed. “Gellert, Love, please. Let me see?”  
“Albus –“

Albus was starting to soften anyway, so he pulled out and rolled off of Gellert.  
Gellert cried out in frustration. Across the room, a pitcher exploded.  
Albus knelt beside Gellert and looked down.  
“Gellert – let me in, please. You don’t have to show me, but can you tell me? Anything?”  
“I need to feel – close to you? But it feels dangerous, also. Especially after – Fuck. It’s easier to show you. I just – Fuck!!” He shouted the last word, the wardrobe door splintered. At this rate, he was going to destroy the entire room in under half an hour.

Albus peered into Gellert’s eyes and was met by a cyclone of emotion: fear, regret, passion, love, anger, arousal, grief… he was – still thinking about being aroused by Albus killing, still thinking about his guilt around Albus having ever killed at all. He was thinking that Albus would have been better off if they had never met. He was feeling like he had taken too much life to deserve to be loved, to deserve to live… He had been thinking earlier that it would fix everything if he could have Albus inside of him, but it didn’t, it wasn’t fixing anything, and it was wrong of him to use Albus to fix his problems in the first place – sex wasn’t for that – sex was for showing Albus how much he loved him, but he couldn’t do anything right…

Albus spelled his and Gellert’s pants back on. He did wish that Gellert would not have initiated anything when he was feeling so conflicted. Sucking on Albus’ fingers was a sure thing – that man’s mouth! Soft and wet and welcoming… Albus shook himself out of it – this was not the time to be getting aroused _again_. The point was, Gellert needed to feel close to Albus, but having sex right now seemed like a bad idea.  
“Hand me the Wand?” Albus asked. Even if the boost of handing the Wand over only helped a little bit, Gellert could use it.  
Gellert rolled over towards the bedside table, grabbed the Wand, and handed it to Albus. Albus thought about Gellert’s attic room in Godric’s Hollow. He waved the Wand, and transformed the room into a perfect copy, complete with a summer breeze, and the sounds of the birds, and the smell of flowers in Bathilda’s garden – even the less pleasant (though faint) smell of the goats and chickens coming in from his own backyard next door.

Gellert sat up in surprise and looked at Albus. “Now what?”  
“Now, you hold me if you want to, or I can hold you, and we can talk or not, about whatever you want.”  
“But – what about – we were –“  
“Let’s – we can get back to that. Right now I just want for us to hold each other. Somewhere not Budapest.”  
“Godric’s Hollow wasn’t perfect either.”  
“No, I know it wasn’t. Nowhere is. I can change the room to something else if you like. But I needed a break from the room we were in. The magic was all – spiky.”

Gellert nodded. “Venice?”  
Albus smiled, and changed the room again.  
Gellert raised an eyebrow. “We might not be having sex right away, but before we leave this room, I am having you against that desk again.”  
Albus laughed. Good. He needed for Gellert to want sex for the usual reason – simply because he was overwhelmed with love and need and arousal. Not because he thought Albus could fuck away all of his self-hatred.

Albus took Gellert’s hand. “I love you. I need you. Don’t you ever leave me, Gellert Grindelwald, or I will make you sorry you were born.”  
Gellert muttered, “I’m already sorry I was born.”  
“I know,” said Albus, gently. “But I’m not.”  
“Maybe you should be.”  
“Or – maybe you are thinking only of a couple of ways you have hurt me, and not about the many ways you have made my life better –“  
“It’s not just you…”  
“That’s right, it’s not just me. You’ve made Otto’s life better, and Wolf’s life better, and Bathilda's life better. So many people, really. And you are only 17, Gellert – we might live 200, 300 more years – think of everything you could do in that time, we could do, to make the world a better place. Your life so far – we’ll learn from it, and move on, together.”

“I can’t just – move on, Albus.”  
“Then I’ll sit still with you here – do you want to –“  
“Hold you? Yes.”  
Gellert sat up, and leaned against the headboard, and soon they were arranged with Albus’ back to Gellert’s chest and Gellert’s legs caging him in on each side. One hand was stroking Albus’ arm, and the other was on his chest.  
Albus slid a bit lower and laid his head on Gellert’s upper arm so that he could see Gellert if he turned his head. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness – Gellert’s warmth, the electricity of Gellert’s bare skin on Albus’, their magic swirling all around them, inseparable always since making the pact, but more intense, and at the same time more at rest, when they were so close together. 

“Do you remember what you said when we met?”  
Gellert smiled. “I said a lot of things, Liebling. I remember saying transfiguration was a field of study unworthy of you.”  
“Arse.”  
“Oh yes, and I said that I had a nice arse.”  
Albus laughed. There was his Gellert. He decided not to follow through on his earlier thought.  
“And you said that one day I would pay for taking the last scone.”  
“And that you were irresistible.”  
“And that Tycho Brahe’s sister Sophia had been a witch.”

“Did I really?”  
“Yes you did. So she wasn’t?” Albus was a little disappointed.  
“No, she was, Schatz. Don’t pout.”  
“I’m not pouting!”  
“You are. I wouldn’t lie to you.” No, he wouldn’t. Keep secrets, maybe, creative truth telling, on rare occasions. But lying? No.  
Gellert continued, “I just didn’t remember saying so. What I do remember is asking you to sit on the sofa with me, and you refused. You were leaning very stiffly against the bookcase.”

“You made me nervous. The night before you had, I had –“  
“Oh yes? The night before?”  
Albus hid his eyes in Gellert's arm. “I – umm – may have –“  
“You brought yourself off thinking about me standing in the window, didn’t you!” Gellert sounded delighted, but Albus was blushing. He had never told Gellert before.  
“I –“  
“Oh! This is too wonderful!” Gellert was almost vibrating with unrestrained glee. “I knew you were attracted to me, but –“  
Albus groaned in embarrassment.

“I don’t know what you are so upset about, Love. All the things we have done, and _this_ bothers you to talk about?”  
“I just hadn’t – I don’t know… There you were, and just the night before, I had…”  
“Oh, I see. You are back on that day in Godric’s Hollow, and you do not want this boy you have met properly not ten minutes ago to know. But we are not on that day, Liebling. We are on this day, and you know me better than anyone in all the world. You know that you can trust me, that I love you, that I want you... and besides, you have touched me, and I have touched you, and we have touched ourselves thinking of one another. This is just the first time you did that when thinking of me, but I know about many other times, and you don’t mind me knowing about them.”  
“I didn’t even know you, though!” Albus protested, turning to look at Gellert.  
“I didn’t know you, the first time I came thinking about you. And how do you feel knowing about that?”

Albus lowered his eyes and chewed on his lip. Flattered. Aroused. Secure. Attractive. But more than anything? "... desired.”  
“Yes. So – you can give me this to think about – it can be your gift to me – the first time you came thinking about me.”  
Gellert kissed Albus on the top of the head, and added, “Though I can’t say that I’m surprised.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. Gellert was only not surprised now that he knew.  
“Yes, you were certainly provocative.”  
“Provoking you is not so difficult for me, Liebhaber.”  
That could not be more true.

Albus pulled free of Gellert's hold. He turned around and sat back on his heels to admire Gellert. But it didn't last long - he was consumed with need. He grabbed Gellert’s face and kissed him urgently. This. This felt right and good and familiar – Gellert’s lips on his, Gellert’s mouth opening for him, Gellert’s tongue... Albus pulled back to check in. Focused, eager, burning like a flame… yes. This Gellert was ready. This Gellert was – impatient with all of Albus' looking, and moving in for another kiss. Wolf’s owl hooted softly.  
Gellert fell back against the headboard and groaned. “Fucking owl.”

Albus looked over at the owl, then back at Gellert.  
“If we are holding an owl captive for 24 hours or more, it seems we need to buy some proper food for it. They’re carnivores – we can’t be feeding it only bread.”  
Gellert looked uncertain. “I was hoping to stay in Muggle Budapest only.”  
“Were you also hoping I would not notice we were avoiding Wizarding Budapest, because you were hoping I would not ask why?”  
Gellert rolled his eyes. “I can tell you why. We haven’t done the Wand cleansing ritual yet, and it isn’t safe for us to be around Witches and Wizards until we do.”

“Oh. Right. Well, we don’t need to get owl food. We could get any kind of meat for it, I suppose. Butcher?”  
Gellert nodded. He began to move, but Albus stayed still.  
“You're making it very difficult for me to get up, Albus. Maybe you should move, so we can –“  
“I wasn't saying we need to go right now. If you want to kiss me one more time.”  
“I want to kiss you all morning.”  
Albus smiled. Good. He wanted to kiss Gellert all morning, too.  
“I think that the owl can wait until after lunch, then.”

Wolf’s owl hooted indignantly and flew over to tap its beak against the window. Albus pointed at the remains of the crescent roll and flicked his finger towards the owl. The bread shot through the air, and the owl caught it in his beak.  
He turned back towards Gellert. “I believe you intended to kiss me all morning?”  
Gellert grabbed Albus and pulled him closer. He brushed his lips against Albus’ and then whispered, “and what if I want to do more than kiss you?”  
Albus licked Gellert’s neck just below his ear and whispered back, “then you might find out that I want to do more than kiss you, too.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Are you almost done here?” Gellert asked, joining Albus where he was sitting at the desk.  
“Always so impatient,” Albus answered.  
“I am not! I am just – wanting to talk to you, and you have been busy ever since we got back from lunch.”  
Albus shook his head fondly. It had only been – oh! More than six hours. Well… Gellert had actually been quite patient, then. He set down his quill and took Gellert’s hand.

“What is it, Love?”  
“Otto – he knows, I think. About us.”  
“You had said before that you were sure he didn’t.”  
“That was before this letter. He would never have trusted you with such personal information if he didn’t know that I trusted you more than anyone.”  
Albus found this unconvincing. “But that kind of trust wouldn’t require a – romantic relationship between us. We could just be close friends.”  
“No, what Otto shared no one else knows. No one.”  
“Not even Wolf?”  
“No, certainly not Wolf. His father knows my father. Wolf knows my father has a temper, but – no.”  
Gellert had been alone in this, all this time? That thought horrified Albus almost as much as the abuse he had suffered. He thought of Zinnie again. She had perhaps been the only person Gellert had had that truly knew – before Albus had found it all in his head.

“Maybe he’s so afraid of losing you that he thought it was worth the risk?”  
“No – he could have said less, and still made his point.”  
Albus thought about this. “You may be right, Gellert. But there are no other clues in the letter that point to that, and he did seem to think that you would be angry that he told me.”  
“Unless he was being facetious.”  
Albus thought that Otto was being in fact sincere, but also trusting that Gellert would not be angry enough for it to permanently damage his relationships with Albus and Otto. But Gellert seemed certain, so Albus could concede the point.

“Is that – a problem?”  
“I suppose not. I wasn’t sure how he would feel about it. If it would disgust him.”  
Albus thought of Aberforth, how much he disliked Gellert, his feelings about Albus having sex with a man. Otto’s letter didn’t sound anything like that.  
“Gellert, he adores you. You need to reread that letter – he is beside himself with worry for you. If he does know, it hasn’t changed his feelings for you at all.”

“I wanted to be the one to tell him. About you and I.”  
“If he knows, then you must have told him, in a way. He must have been able to hear it and see it for himself. You said he knows you better than anyone else.”  
“Almost anyone else,” Gellert interrupted. “You know me best of all.”  
Albus lifted up Gellert’s hand and kissed it.  
“Ok, so now Otto knows you next best. And I imagine that must be because you are open to him in the way that you are to me. Who knows what he might have learned from your facial expressions when he was talking about me? But because the two of you have not spoken of it directly, I doubt very much that he knows. At most, he suspects.” Albus doubted that Otto even suspected, but he didn’t want to discount Gellert’s concerns entirely. At the moment, there was no way to know, anyway.

Gellert had been silent for some time, so Albus ventured, “I, for one, am gratified that my brother-in-law thinks highly enough of me to suggest that I might be capable of persuading you of anything.”  
Gellert laughed. He stood, still holding Albus’ hand, and pulled Albus up to stand with him. Gellert looked down at Albus (when had Gellert grown taller?) and said, “Well, you did persuade me to marry you.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “No dear, I do believe that you asked me first.”  
“But you were overwhelmingly sexy first,” Gellert answered, turning Albus around so that his back was to Gellert. He began kissing and sucking on Albus’ neck.  
Oh! Albus could feel himself blushing.

“I - had a bit of an advantage there, in that you met me before I met you.”  
“No excuses!” Gellert insisted, wandlessly unbuttoning Albus’ shirt and pulling it off of him.  
“ _You_ –“ Gellert licked Albus’ shoulder “persuaded _me_.”  
Albus laughed and tried to turn around, but Gellert held him fast.  
“It is almost supper time!” Albus protested.  
“And I am so _so_ hungry.” The rest of Albus’ clothes vanished. Gellert kissed his way down one of Albus’ arms, while one of his hands slowly skated over Albus’ skin towards his cock.  
“It seems - I can only – persua–A!- ade you - when you have - already - decided to be - persuaded.”  
“Oh? Were you trying to persuade me of something?” 

Now Gellert’s clothes had disappeared. Albus was hyper aware of every place that their bare skin was touching, of Gellert’s hard cock rubbing up against his arse.  
“You must not have been trying very _hard_.” The papers flew off the desk, making neat piles on the floor. Gellert kicked Albus’ chair out of the way and bent Albus over the desk. He began stroking Albus’ cock.  
“Su-uuuuuh-pper?”  
Albus was going to keep playing the game as long as he could focus on it. Which was not going to be much longer, now that Gellert not only had Albus’ cock in hand, but was also dropping wet open mouthed kisses all over his back.  
Gellert lifted up his head only long enough to ask, “What about supper?” Albus felt the warm wet of the lubrication charm, felt Gellert’s finger slowly pressing into him.  
“Going to suuu– ah! Gellert!”  
“Supper in, tonight. It seems it was my turn to persuade you.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus loved leaving their rooms, because there was so much to see. At first, he had hated leaving their rooms in equal measure, because he couldn’t touch Gellert or look at him too carefully or too long. But they had learned to make allowances over time. Albus was particularly glad that he had taught Gellert Legilimency. With the briefest eye contact they could make suggestive jokes or tease one another with images of fantasies or memories of one another. Other times they used the Legilimency to exchange I love you’s, or to share things they were noticing and admiring about one another. Even as they were outwardly reserved with one another, they were able to share their desires and feelings with one another even in public.  
Ever since Albus had ‘grabbed’ Gellert’s arse with his magic in Wolf’s library, Gellert and Albus had been experimenting with simulating physical contact with their magic. Albus tried to limit this to nudging Gellert’s hip, or holding his hand, or throwing an arm over his shoulder. Gellert… needed frequent reminders of exactly how far Albus thought it was appropriate to go when walking down a city street or sitting in a café.  
Albus was glad that he was now free to enjoy himself wherever they were without feeling that the price of leaving their rooms was distancing himself from Gellert. But there was a new price to pay: frequent use of concealment charms, when they went overboard and needed to… relieve the tension they had built up with all of their flirting (and Gellert’s ‘nudging.’) But that was a price that Albus was happy to pay.

Albus thought he might never want to stop traveling – every place they went was so different. Today they were going to the zoo, in part because Gellert had never been to a zoo, but largely because it was the terminus for the metro. ‘It is a train! Underground!’ Gellert had explained excitedly to Albus, when he had learned of it. Albus decided that it was best not to share that he had already ridden an underground train in London. Gellert had somehow not left Godric’s Hollow during his time in Britain, and Albus was looking forward to showing him around London when they finally returned.

They had a wonderful time, seeing animals that they had only ever seen pictures of: a rhinoceros, an elephant, a giraffe. Gellert spent a very long time watching the tigers. Albus only learned after they had left that they had spent so much time with the tigers to help Gellert reacclimate to the present after seeing the zoo bombed, with both the animals and the buildings destroyed – aside from a handful of animals that survived only to be eaten by starving Muggles. This, taken together with Gellert’s vision of the Jewish houses of worship abandoned and empty made him more determined to find the root causes of what was happening in the world in forty years. It made Albus more suspicious of aeroplanes. And it made the day itself less enjoyable than it had seemed it might be when they had set out that morning. 

“The animals!” Albus moaned. “What is the use in bombing a zoo?”  
“This is why I don’t share my visions with you more often, Albus. There are terrible things in the world, yes. But it hasn’t happened yet. And in any case, all of the animals you saw today will be dead by then. I don’t need a vision to say that. It is simply a matter of life expectancy. Do you stand there looking at a tiger, so powerful and elegant now, and dwell on the thought that it will likely not be there when we come back ten years from now? No. Now, there are tigers. They are real. We saw them today. My visions are – _maybe_ real. Maybe there will never be a bomb to fall on the zoo.”  
“That’s not the important part. These aeroplanes seem almost certainly real, and they can destroy an area as big as an entire zoo, and maybe they even destroy these things by accident. Maybe they are not even paying attention to where they drop their bombs and their fire.”

“Yes, you are right. Fine. And this bothers you because –“  
“Doesn’t it bother you?”  
“It bothers me a great deal. I want to know _why it bothers you_.”  
“It’s – it’s indiscriminate. It kills too many people all at once. Helpful people, unhelpful people, allies, enemies, all the same. And I don’t understand the point of it.”  
“The point? It is strategic. They make people starve, they make people afraid, and then the people turn against their rulers and demand that they do anything to end it, even surrender.”  
“That’s – wasteful, though. Assassination seems a lot more effective.”

“You have to be careful who you choose to kill. It can destabilize a country more than killing a tenth part of the population if you choose the wrong leaders to kill. You can pave the way for someone even worse. Or you can set off a cascade of retaliatory assassinations.”  
“I think this does not affect ordinary people so much. Whereas war affects ordinary people very much.”  
“Maybe, maybe not. I think that who is ruling matters very much to ordinary people. But supposing you are correct - you and I are not ordinary people, so it would affect us. What matters most to most people is how it affects them. Which is why there is so little in the way of state-sponsored assassinations. There is a – gentleman’s agreement, I think is the expression – between the leaders of the world to discourage assassination, in order to protect themselves. It was not always the case, but before this agreement, no ruler was safe.”

Albus groaned impatiently. “That’s fine for Muggles, Gellert, but we have magic. If no one knows it was murder, then the ‘agreement’ is still in effect.”  
Gellert looked at Albus for a long time. “Perhaps.”  
Albus could tell that Gellert had more to say, but he was holding back. That suited Albus, who did not want to hear any more justifications for waging war. It seemed incautious, chaotic – the results unpredictable. And in a Wizarding War there would be no winners. In any case, it seemed hypocritical to fault Albus for suggesting killing people one at a time, while justifying killing hundreds of people at a time – justifying killing a whole zoo full of animals all at once. 

“I am not saying that I disagree with you, Albus. Only that – we need to think about these things. Talk about them. If there is ever a time when we do need to kill a person, or many people, we need to –“  
“Have a reason.”  
“Yes, know our reasons. Think through our reasons.”

As they were entering the door of their room, Albus mentioned, “Our train leaves tomorrow.”  
“Yes,” Gellert said, “We should let Wolf’s owl go before we go out to supper.”  
“No, I still haven’t written the letter to Wolf. We can let it go tomorrow, before we leave.”  
That poor owl – it had been wanting very much to leave, but if it was supposed to have been going to and from Constantinople – Wolf would never have believed they were really there if they had allowed the owl to return more quickly.

“It has been such a day. Tell me a story? Some other vision you’ve had – a vision not of war?”  
Gellert grinned. “Have I told you yet about the cinema?”  
“I already know about the cinema, Gellert,” Albus said impatiently. “We attended in Paris.”  
“But in the future… Imagine the films being longer – an hour or more. And with sound. And in colour!”  
Wizarding photos had motion. And colour. But not sound, and they showed only a brief moment. Nothing like an hour. More than an hour!  
“Muggles do wonderful things, sometimes, with their science. Tell me more.”  
“You tell me more. Tell me what story you would tell, with colour and sound.” Albus had asked Gellert for a story, and now he had found a way to get Albus to tell him a story. Clever. “And actors,” Gellert added.  
Oh! Interesting.  
“Stage actors?”  
“Yes. Any story you want. A story people would see in every city, all over Europe. All over the world, maybe.”

Albus looked at Gellert and smiled. “Once upon a time, there was a very handsome Wizard,” Albus began, kissing Gellert. The kiss quickly progressed until Gellert stopped just long enough to levitate Albus onto the bed and lie on top of him.  
“Hmmm… It is too bad that the very handsome Wizard’s husband became too distracted to listen to the rest of the story.”  
He began wandlessly removing their clothing slowly, piece by piece.

“Gellert! You are the very handsome Wizard!”  
“Oh? Yes, I daresay I am a very handsome Wizard. It would be hard to find a stage actor so handsome as me.”  
Ridiculous. Albus laughed delightedly. “Undeniably.”  
“But _you_ are _my_ very handsome Wizard, and I would have the world hear a story about you, perhaps bringing down the Statute of Secrecy by cleverly securing the world’s food supply, and so becoming a hero to Muggles and Magical folk everywhere.”  
Gellert vanished their trousers. 

“Well,” Albus said with some difficulty, distracted as he was by his own erection pressed up against Gellert’s. “When it is your turn to tell a story –“  
“No, let us tell no more stories now. Instead, now –“  
Gellert vanished their pants and began slowly dragging his cock against Albus’.  
“Oh! Yesssss…” Albus hissed out in satisfaction. Finally there was nothing separating them and Gellert was above him, against him, warm and hard.  
Albus wrapped his arms around Gellert, and Gellert kissed Albus deeply as they continued to rock against one another, forgetting the past and the future, forgetting every hypothetical. Their consciousnesses were entirely consumed by their bodies: warmth and texture and friction, the smell and taste of one another, the pleasure building in each of them as they moved against one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So – I know that I have referenced WWII several times, and not said anything about WWI yet… There are several reasons for this, not limited to the author knowing significantly less about WWI than WWII (I have been reading books recently to fill in the gaps!) – but rest assured that we will be hearing about WWI also. Etc.


	29. Intention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus pulled away just enough to look at Gellert, who was looking at him with concern and adoration – and with more than a touch of smug self-confidence. Albus sighed.  
> “You, Gellert, are infuriatingly wonderful. Or is that wonderfully infuriating? You are wonderful. And infuriating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that thing where you think to yourself, "an hour more of editing, and this will be ready to post!"  
> And then two hours later, you are like, "I think this needs more explanation," so you add five new paragraphs, and that breaks the chapter, so you rewrite it.  
> And an hour after that, you discover a bunch of what you think _might be_ continuity issues, so you reread several earlier chapters.  
> And then you completely lose track of time, and when you come to your senses, somehow the chapter has grown so much that it has to be split _again_.  
> Yeah... That.
> 
> But hey! I'm happy with the chapter now, so -

Chapter 26  
April 1900, continued

Gellert had reread Otto’s letter daily, and Albus was convinced that it was for the familiar handwriting as much as it was for the saucy tone. Albus knew that Gellert wanted to send a letter for Otto back with Wolf’s owl – and it was obvious that Otto would have loved to have something from Gellert. But neither of them said anything about it, because they knew equally well that such a thing was impossible. All of Otto’s precautions would likely be wasted if something with Gellert’s magical signature crossed the Durmstrang wards. With the help of the Elder Wand, there might be a way to mask any trace of Gellert unless the letter was in direct physical contact with Otto, but they didn’t have enough time to practice and test the concept before sending the owl back this time. 

Instead, Albus wrote to Wolf. It was Wolf’s owl after all, and Albus had promised Gellert that he would not contact Otto. That might no longer apply, but with Gellert not being able to write Otto himself, Albus didn’t want to ask.  
‘It seems to me that you and I have two troublemakers to manage,’ Albus wrote, and he thanked Wolf for sharing his owl with a friend. He thought about telling Wolf that he was keeping ‘our mutual friend’ busy, but then thought that might sound… suggestive, so he kept the letter short.  
Sending the increasingly impatient owl on his way was the last thing left for them to do before leaving tor the train station. Gellert scowled jealously as Albus tied his letter to the bird’s leg before opening the window. Albus understood, but it couldn’t be helped. 

Gellert had been right that the sleeper car was nicer than an ordinary passenger compartment. But Albus had been right that the beds were only incrementally wider than the benches in the trains they had taken in the past.  
“Honestly, Albus, are you a wizard or not? You transfigure the bedside table into a matchbox or something, and that will give me room to widen the bed.”

“Why do people always say a matchbox? Matchbox, snuffbox, pincushion – as if these are the only small items one might transfigure something into! It is very tempting, walking into a wizard’s home, to point at every snuffbox and cast a Finite just to see what will happen! Do you know any wizards who use snuff? Or matches for that matter? Matches! Honestly. Incendio is one of our most basic spells!”  
Albus had much more to say about the matter, but at that moment he turned and saw Gellert smiling widely at him. That Arse had wound him up on purpose _again_. 

Albus growled in frustration. “ _Why_ do you do that?”  
“You are so passionate, mein Kätzchen. It is fun to see you on fire with your intellectual annoyances.”  
“Do not patronise me! My point is a practical one!”  
“Yes, I understand. No matchboxes. Very important.”  
Albus snorted in spite of himself. But he quickly sobered. “Details _are_ important Gellert. The most basic deceptions can be undone by such missed details. And not only that -”  
“Shhh… Albus, I know. I know. I’m just teasing you, Liebling. So serious today.”

Gellert wrapped Albus in his arms. “What is it?”  
So many things. Too many things. Too many problems, too many questions, no solutions. What were they doing? What did they hope to achieve?  
“Overwhelmed.”  
Gellert sighed. “I will tell you a secret. It is true that I like seeing you like this – when you are defending your ideas, I am torn between hearing you through to the end and throwing you on the bed. But there is another reason I provoke you in this way: it gives you energy. There is too much in this world that takes our energy away. The outing yesterday – your energy has been too low since then. I thought if I asked you to transfigure something into a matchbox…”  
This was Gellert _helping_? Of all the idiotic… presumptuous…  
Albus pulled away just enough to look at Gellert, who was looking at him with concern and adoration – and with more than a touch of smug self-confidence. Albus sighed. It wasn’t that Gellert was wrong. It had worked after all. It had been thoughtful, in a way. But the point about matchboxes stood – he would sooner be thrown out the window than transfigure _anything_ into a matchbox. 

“You are infuriatingly wonderful. Or is that wonderfully infuriating? You are wonderful. And infuriating. And I love you.”  
“I love you too, Albus. Always.”  
“I know.”

Albus pressed his lips to Gellert’s cheek, then gently pushed him away.  
He held out his hand towards the bedside table, palm up. The table lifted up and began to transform in mid-air, until a dark blue hair ribbon was laying in Albus’ hand. He walked around behind Gellert, combed his fingers through his hair, and gathered his hair at the nape of his neck, tying it with the ribbon.  
He kissed Gellert on the neck and then came back around in front of him.  
“Your turn.”

Gellert climbed onto the bed, with his back against the wall of the compartment, and began stretching the bed out away from him. The edge of the expanding bed bumped into Albus, and he fell onto it.  
“Bull’s-eye!” Gellert crowed.  
“You cunning devil,” Albus laughed.  
Gellert crawled towards Albus. “I don’t know what ‘devil’ means, but it sounds like you like it.”  
It was absolutely true.

Just then, the train jolted just enough for Gellert to tumble across Albus. Albus tickled him, and Gellert screeched and retaliated.  
Gellert had practically filled the compartment with the bed, which was good, because they surely would have fallen on the floor otherwise, rolling around, wrestling and tickling.  
When they were exhausted, Albus and Gellert lay next to one another gasping for air, still laughing intermittently. All at once, Albus vanished their clothing, and rolled over onto Gellert.  
“I love you,” he breathed, and kissed Gellert, rubbing their cocks together.  
Gellert broke away to suck on Albus’ neck, and they both moaned. 

“I need you in me,” Gellert gasped. “Please.”  
“Yes, soon.” Albus bit Gellert’s shoulder, then licked it. “I need you too. But I want to take my time with you. Study you. Touch you everywhere.”  
“Can you – take your time with me later?”  
Albus laughed at Gellert’s impatience.  
“Well, let me go down on you at least.”  
Gellert grinned. “I suppose I can allow you to put your mouth on my Aaaah!”

Gellert had wanted immediate, so Albus hadn’t bothered waiting for Gellert to finish his sentence, but had moved straight to his cock and taken as much in his mouth as he could manage. Getting Gellert to break off his sentence as he so often made Albus do had almost made up for not getting to thoroughly explore Gellert’s body.  
Gellert groaned and put one hand on the back of Albus’ head. Albus grabbed Gellert’s other hand with one of his own, and lifted up his head long enough to meet Gellert’s eyes and say, “Gods, I love you.” Then he licked Gellert’s cock before sucking it back into his mouth. As he continued to slowly drag his lips up and down Gellert’s shaft, he cast a lubricating charm, and worked his finger into Gellert. The heat made Albus’ cock twitch, thinking about how good it felt to be inside Gellert, to move in him. He licked his lips and sped up.

Too soon for Albus, Gellert gasped, “That - is enough.”  
Albus released Gellert from his mouth and looked up.  
“You are too good at that - I want to come with you in me. Please. I need you.”  
“You’re not ready yet.”  
“Then use a stretching charm, Albus. Whatever it takes.”  
“Are you sure –“ Albus asked, lubricating a second finger and adding it to the first, “that I can’t persuade you to let me do it by hand?”  
Albus bit the inside of Gellert’s thigh hard, and he yelped.  
“OH! Yes, gods yes, whatever you – ungh!”

Albus smiled, and as he scissored his fingers he licked Gellert’s balls, then everywhere else in reach. Gellert groaned and thrust his hips up involuntarily. “Aaaaalllllbuuuuus! Please!”  
Albus removed his fingers, and came back up to lick Gellert’s neck. He lined himself up and teased, “Are you sure?”  
Gellert growled, “Now Albus!” He grabbed Albus’ arse, and Albus entered him – tight and hot and perfect.  
“I love you,” Albus began chanting. “I love you I love you…”

Albus looked down at the man he loved more than anything in the world, his head tipped back, his eyes shut tight in concentration. Suddenly his eyes opened – those extraordinary eyes looking straight into his own, his face wild and ecstatic. Albus wanted never to be anywhere else but here, in Gellert and on top of Gellert, looking at Gellert, touching Gellert. Albus breathed Gellert's name as if it were a prayer, and bent down and kissed him.  
He kissed Gellert until his breathing became too ragged to continue, then pushed himself back up. How had this even happened? Him, Gellert, this feeling of thrusting into him again and again. He found Gellert's cock with his hand and began stroking it. Gods. So perfect.

Albus wanted to tell Gellert how beautiful he was, how brilliant, how everything he was, but he couldn’t speak, he was losing the ability to think, to do anything but look Gellert in the eyes, pumping his cock in time to the thrusts.  
Albus picked up the pace, making Gellert moan and begin beating the mattress. “Albus! Albus – I need – yesssss!”  
Albus was so close, nothing existed besides himself and Gellert and the heat and the need that was growing in him. He dug his fingernails into Gellert’s shoulders, and Gellert came with a shout. As his body tightened and shook with his orgasm, Albus followed him.

Boneless, near collapse, ready to take his weight off his arms and lay on Gellert, Albus’ eyes were caught by movement. He paused to look up for a moment – out the window of the train he could see the countryside like a scroll, unwinding on one end to be wound up on the other. Trees here, mostly, but Albus knew that beyond them lay fields and farms and villages and cities. Here in bed, they were in their own tiny world, but they were also part of the whole world outside – a world that was unaware of them even as they hurtled through it. They would teach this world their names, remake it into a place where they could be who they were openly – their whole selves – with no one to stop them.

He looked back down at Gellert and smiled.  
“You were thinking about something not me,” Gellert accused.  
“I am always thinking about you. Right now, I am thinking that you and I are going to change the world. Together.”  
Albus fell onto Gellert, and added, “And I am thinking that you were right about trains.”  
Gellert laughed and licked the sweat off of Albus’ neck, making him moan softly.  
“I am always right, Liebling. I keep telling you.” 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

They had been in Constantinople only two days when Gellert announced that he had nearly finished his research on their tattoos. After their first distance apparition, Albus had asked if the tattoos were still necessary, but Gellert had pointed out that only one of them could have the Wand at a time. If they were separated, this other form of travel would be superior.

One of the last problems Gellert had been working to solve was how and where to place the tattoo. Activating it required skin to skin contact – which meant that the tattoo needed to be somewhere readily accessible. But they didn’t want it to be somewhere visible, because that would draw notice. No Wizards wore tattoos – at least not in Europe. The marks left by their blood pact were unusual enough, but they were the only persons who would see those, given where they were placed.  
Gellert had finally hit upon the idea of a travelling tattoo, that would usually “live” on their shoulders, and move down their arm onto their wrist when needed. It would take additional spellwork to animate the tattoo, and to make it sufficiently sensitive to their desires and their intent to move into place with a half-conscious thought.

“The tattoo will know what we need? How are you going to do that?”  
“Ah, no, Liebling. How are _you_ going to do that?”  
Gellert thrust a stack of papers at Albus.  
“This is all of my research. You are the expert in tracing our individual magics – I think that this will require somehow tying the magic of the tattoo into our – what did you call them? Threads?”  
“Gellert. First of all, I don’t know if that is even possible. Second of all, this might require customization. Making the blood pact has made our magic more similar than it was before, but still not the same. And thirdly, I don’t know if it is even possible for me to see your magic in enough detail for me to customize the spell properly. And finally – it isn’t clear to me why you even think that this is the solution to making the tattoo somehow more aware of us than we are of ourselves.”

“Let’s start with the last one. I have been thinking about the Imperius curse. You had said that it can’t be used on Muggles, correct?”  
“Yes, but –“  
“The Imperius curse is supposedly mind magic. And it is clear to me after so much time around Muggles that they have minds just as Wizards do –“  
Albus rolled his eyes. Purebloods. Gellert had been under the impression that Muggles _did not have minds_ up until – what? Six months ago, perhaps? They had so much work to do before it would be safe to unleash Wizards on the Muggle world. So much work to do and so little time.

“… so why would it not work on them? The only difference between Muggles and Wizards is _magic_. So, the Imperius curse must work on a Wizard’s magic.”  
Of course! That was obvious now that Gellert had said it, but Albus had not given the question of _why_ a spell might work on Wizards and not Muggles much thought.  
“So, you believe that when an Imperius is cast, it connects with the Wizard’s magic to manipulate their will, while the Wizard remains unconscious of being manipulated.”  
“Exactly! And the tattoo is similar in a way. Or, the elements are the same – unconscious thought, will, manipulation… They are just configured differently: without conscious thought, I want for our will to manipulate the tattoo.”

This was a promising line of inquiry.  
“We would need to know that that is in fact how an Imperius works – we would need to expose the mechanism.”  
“You could Imperius me, I suppose.”  
“You know that I can’t – you are far too strong willed for that. You would essentially be _allowing_ me to Imperius you the whole time, which defeats the purpose of the test entirely. You would be fully conscious, and your will would be active.”  
“Do you really need to Imperius someone?”  
“Perhaps not? I don’t know. It wouldn’t matter if I couldn’t see their magic, anyway.”

“You see everyone’s magic.”  
“Not exactly. The magic around other Wizards is very subtle for me. Like the scent of the ocean carried on the breeze from a mile away. I can see Wards and other enchantments, but only if I am looking for them. That is very different from seeing the magic within or radiating from a person. You are the only person whose magic I see clearly - I see your magic shining around you and reaching out from you – since performing the Blood pact, anyway. But even your magic I do not see in the way that I see my own – with all of the component elements at their varying strengths.  
“I don’t see everything, Gellert. What I see most clearly is the ambient magic that has accumulated in a place – the magical energy of a place. Emotions and intent and action – all of these things shift the magical signature of a room or a building. I am much more sensitive to that than I am to the magical signatures of individual Witches and Wizards.”

By the way Gellert was silently looking at the floor, Albus could tell that he was thinking, so he waited.  
Finally Gellert asked, “So you haven’t seen my magic?”  
“Not all the threads, no. The ‘door’ we have talked about? I have only seen mine, and only when meditating.”  
“Not even with Legilimency? You have been in my mind so many times.”  
“I – perhaps that would be possible, but I have always gone in looking for something specific – or more usually, reading something that you pushed towards me purposefully.”  
“So Legilimency is one possibility…”

“It’s the only possibility I can see. Unless there is some sort of spell to project that information, but I don’t know how we’d find it. After all, neither of us has ever seen anything on the different kinds of magic at all, so finding something on how to see or record it… Any such spell we would probably have to invent ourselves.”  
“So, shall we try it?”  
“Inventing a spell?”  
“No, no. Legilimency.”  
“Right now?”  
“Mmmhmm,” Gellert answered, laying back on the bed. Albus laughed.

“Oh, I see. You are just trying to get me to climb on top of you.”  
“Is it working?”  
“Not yet. There are likely to be barriers, preventing outsiders from being able to visualize your magic. You need to meditate and find your –“  
“My door, Liebhaber?” Gellert asked, propping himself up to wink at Albus. Infuriating.  
“Be serious, Gellert! This is why I am not over there yet. I need you to concentrate. No distractions.”  
“No gorgeous man pressing up against my cock. Understood.”  
Albus sighed. Sometimes he wondered how they got anything done at all.

“Find the place where your magic gathers to be directed, and gently take down whatever barriers keep it from being seen by your mind ordinarily. But – if it starts causing you any distress, you have to stop. This is a place we cannot access without meditating, which might mean that it is kept separate from our ordinary consciousness for a reason. I don’t want you risking your sanity, you understand?”  
Gellert was not always very kind to himself, and he hated any kind of limitation. Albus was wishing that he was the one doing this part, and that Gellert was then going to go in and read his magic. Albus knew they were doing it this way because he had more experience with magic mapping, but he suddenly didn’t trust Gellert to be safe.  
Gellert had not acknowledged his warning, and was already beginning to close his eyes.

“Gellert!” Albus said sharply. Gellert’s eyes snapped open, and he looked at Albus.  
“I love you.”  
Gellert looked at him quizzically. “Yes?”  
“I – pretend it’s my mind. When you are in there? Because it is, in a way. Your mind – it’s mine. I adore it, and I need it to stay intact. Treat your mind as you would treat mine. Ok?”  
“Ok…”  
“I’m serious Gellert.”  
“You’re scared. Oh, Liebling. I will be careful, I promise. Come here.”  
Careful? Already they were being reckless to attempt this at all. Albus did not like experimenting on his husband, and could not believe that, between the two of them, they had gotten this far towards having him do something perhaps never done before in Wizarding history, in order to magically alter his brain. Even if it was not _meant_ to be permanent, that did not mean that permanent damage wasn’t possible. What in Merlin’s name were they doing? 

Albus sat on the edge of the bed.  
“No…” Gellert spelled off his shirt and Albus’. “Really come here. Lay here beside me, put your head on my chest, so I can feel you.”  
Albus wanted to hold Gellert so badly, but - “That might – confuse your reading.”  
“I doubt it. It shouldn’t change my magic at the source, so to speak. Only the magic after it has reached out, right?”  
“That is a decent supposition, but we have no basis to say so conclusively.”  
“Still. Let’s try it?”  
Albus nodded and lay on Gellert, holding him and waiting for him to return.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Albus?”  
It had been a long time. Too long, Albus thought. But he calmed himself with the reminder that Gellert was new to finding his magic – that meditating and finding his centre would take him a long time, and taking down the natural shields might take longer.  
“Albus?”  
Gellert!  
Albus lifted his head and propped himself up on one elbow, one hand on Gellert’s chest (‘for balance,’ Albus told himself.)  
“I’m here, Love.”

Gellert pushed Albus onto his back, and climbed on top of him.  
“You are brilliant!” he exclaimed. He kissed Albus, then repeated, “Brilliant!”  
The appreciation was not unwelcome, but it wasn’t clear what he was being appreciated for, exactly.  
“What happened, Gellert?”  
“Well, we were both right about the magic reading. I was right that you laying on me didn’t affect my reading. I could easily tell which magic was mine – well, which is mine now, since I have your blood and your magic in my veins. But what I mean is, I could tell which magic was coming from me, and which magic was coming from you. Your magic didn’t reach my door, as you say. It is more like some of your threads wrap around some of mine, tendril-like. So I think that part won’t be a problem. You will be able to sort it out even if you are touching me.  
“But… bringing down the walls. You were right that the part of me that is aware of the nature of my magics is separated from the rest of my consciousness. And you were right about there being a reason. Maybe yours is less well protected, or maybe there are other reasons not to take down the walls - reasons that apply to all Wizards, but… when awareness of my magic began to seep into the rest of my brain, it began sparking visions. Everywhere it touched.”

“Fuck! Gellert! I can’t believe we put you in such danger! That must have been terrifying! Oh Love, I am so sorry, I – wait. How are you in such a good mood?”  
“Well, two things. One is that you had me on guard, so I noticed right away what was happening before the gap in the wall was very large, so I was able to shut everything back up quickly. If I hadn’t been ready for problems… well, I was already having to deal with two or three visions at a time. Five? Ten? A dozen? Who knows how many visions playing in concert I could take before losing the ability to rebuild the walls? Perhaps being trapped in my visions?”  
Albus was appalled. They could have lost Gellert in a needless experiment.  
“No! Albus, listen! This is good news – I was alert – _because of you_ – and so I am fine – I was able to fix it.”  
This did not sound like good news at all. ‘Good news, Albus! When you sent me out to dance in the thunderstorm, I was struck by lightning - but I only have this burn on the bottom of my foot to show for it!’ Yes, Gellert was probably ok now, but that had been too close.

Gellert kissed Albus’ forehead. “I’m here, Albus. Here I am. It is all over, Love.”  
Gellert laid his hand on Albus’ face. “Are you ok? Can I continue?”  
Albus nodded, cautiously.  
“Ok. The second is… and before you worry, I know I was likely just lucky, and I promise not to try it again, but… most of the visions were better than usual – amazing even! You and me, we are – Albus, you are brilliant now – without your warnings, I would have been lost. Lost in my mind and my visions forever. But in the future, your brilliance is – I would be lost without you in any time, in any place. I love you so much. Any good thing I do in the future, it is not me doing it. It is us doing it together. The possibilities! There are so many paths open to us, and it is because of you. Gods, I love you.”

Even as Gellert began kissing him enthusiastically, Albus’ mind wandered. He worried that the magic together with Gellert’s brain had conjured up ‘visions’ which were not true visions, which might mislead him.  
Of course, it was equally possible that they were true visions. And it was certainly true that Albus’ future and Gellert’s future were inseparable. That much Albus trusted – because he had already known it to be true.  
Albus was glad he had not gained Gellert’s seer magic when they performed the blood pact. He hadn’t even thought of it as a possibility until now. They were so reckless! Playing with things they only half knew.  
Meanwhile, Gellert’s mouth had moved to his shoulder, and his hand was drifting down towards Albus’ trousers. 

“Gellert? Gellert.”  
Gellert stopped, gasping. “Albus?”  
It was unfair how gorgeous he was in this moment, driven to possess Albus in any way possible. Albus hated to stop him, but they were in the middle of something.

“We were trying to – Gellert! Hand out of my trousers, Love.”  
“Sorry, Albus. You’re thinking…”  
“I am supposing that this means that seeing your magic won’t be possible?”  
“Oh no. It should be easy now. I made a window, for lack of a better word. A way to see my magic without releasing that knowledge into the rest of my mind. Invisible to anyone but you or me. Also a door, but I don’t know how safe it is to open the door. But to look through the window should be possible.”

“You – changed the nature of the walls that separate your ability to perceive your magic from the rest of your brain? I can see your magic without removing the walls?”  
That kind of power – and creativity, and recklessness – Albus suddenly couldn’t think of anything but reducing Gellert to a writhing mess.  
Gellert grinned. “Now who’s brilliant?”  
Albus pulled down Gellert for a kiss.  
“You, always. So brilliant.”  
He wrapped one arm around Gellert, placed the other on the back of his head, and pulled him in for another kiss. This time, he wasn’t going to stop for anything. Not until he had rolled Gellert over and thoroughly demonstrated just how desirable he was, in every possible way.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus didn’t find the opportunity to try to read Gellert’s magic until the next morning. When he emerged, he was so overwhelmed with the power and intricacy of what he had seen that he was in danger of allowing himself to forget it all in favour of paying similar attention to every inch of Gellert’s body.  
So he moved across the room from Gellert.  
Gellert sat up.  
“Albus?”  
Oh. He looked worried. Of course.  
“Everything’s fine, Gellert. Amazing. Astonishing. I love you even more than I did before I went in – I just – you are everything to me, and I want to be able to tell you before I pin you to the bed and don’t let you leave for days.”  
Gellert laughed. “You had to cross the room to keep yourself from fucking me?”  
“That does not even begin to capture it.”  
“Tell me, then, so we can move on to executing this pinning me to the bed plan.”  
It was not so much a ‘plan’ as an almost uncontrollable impulse. It had taken every scrap of Albus’ will to leave the bed.

“For starters – your seer abilities are not part of the collection of the rest of your magic. Which makes sense, because you cannot wield it consciously. But I had hoped that I might be able to see it.”  
“Yes, me too. That is – that means that it is not clear where it comes from. It even opens the possibility of there being Muggle seers.”  
Oh. That was a new thought. Albus filed it away to discuss later – for now, he didn’t want to lose track of what he had seen in Gellert’s mind.  
“It is interesting – our magic is not exactly the same, but I know that the blood pact altered my magic – increasing intensity everywhere, and adding one new kind of magic, so I can only assume that it did something similar for you. We now have the same collection of abilities, but with different intensities. For instance, I have a few illusion threads that were not there before, but you have dozens of illusion threads. Several of your threads… it is fascinating – they are twined together, like they are creating something new by working together. I am – I don’t have that. I am going to see if I can train my magic to do that, but it is likely an innate ability.  
Your magic stretches in every direction – but the most interesting part – I can’t say for sure – I would have to go in again and have you cast various spells of different kinds while I was reading you – I had thought that you were selecting which magic you use, but I think instead individual threads are actually changing in nature to match what you need at the time. I’m not sure.”

Gellert grinned. “Now I want to see yours!”  
“I’m not sure… I would have to create a window like yours… It might be easier to show you a memory of me looking at my magic. But we’ll see.”  
“Well, it is either that, or you report honestly on your magic, which you seem unlikely to do. You have only told me what is extraordinary about my own magic, and not what is extraordinary about your own.”  
This made Albus uncomfortable. “Well – we are talking about you right now. And about what this means for the tattoos. I think that maybe it is possible to connect them to our magic – there are threads for intent. I imagine that is how the Imperius works – by seizing all of the intent threads. Which is why more powerful Wizards are more difficult to control – there are simply too many intent threads for the Imperius to grasp. The tattoo would not need to be connected to all of the intent threads, but only to one or two. This means two things: First, the magic would not need to be customized – which is good news. But what is more difficult is that the magic would need to be dedicated – we wouldn’t be able to use those threads for anything else. We would essentially be permanently changing our magical capacities. We don’t want to do this often, or maybe ever again. We each have so many intent threads that we can spare what it is needed for this spell. _If_ we decide this capability justifies the permanent binding of these threads. “

Gellert _looked_ thoughtful, but Albus knew he was committed to this course of action. They would almost certainly end up doing this. But they would need to talk about it, so that there would be no second-guessing or arguing later.  
“We have three weeks to decide,” Gellert said, finally. “I still need to brew the potions, and research and sketch possible designs.”

“Of course! I had forgotten that we would need to decide what the tattoo should look like.”  
“Do you want to help? Do you have an idea of what you want it to look like?”  
Albus smiled. “I’ll help if you need me to. But I’m happy for you to do it all yourself. I’m sure whatever you choose will be perfect.”  
“You don’t care?”  
“I’m not saying that. I’m saying you have a good eye. And I trust you. I would care if you were thinking of giving the job to someone else.”  
“You wouldn’t let Wolf do it, you mean?”  
“Gods, no. I would very much get involved if this were Wolf’s job. But even so, I wouldn’t come up with something as good as you would have. I’ll help you with the potions, though.”

“You say that as if you think I need help with potions.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “Not at all. You can do every bit of the work for this if you choose, and I’ll go enjoy myself in the baths.”  
“You will not! I will not have anyone but me seeing you naked!”  
Albus laughed. “Then I suppose I will just stay home and work on the thread binding and tattoo animation problem.”  
Gellert bit his lip and looked down. “Well, actually…”  
Fuck.

“The ritual for the Wand is a more urgent problem, and I need your help. I can’t find a way around including…”  
“A blood sacrifice? Yes, I know. My calculations say the same thing.”  
Albus waited for Gellert to gather his thoughts.  
“I had feared that I was just – looking for an excuse.”  
Albus came back to the bed and leaned against Gellert. 

“I’m sorry you are so worried. But I really believe that there is no other way. I’m new at this, though. You are the expert. I trust you. But if you don’t trust yourself, I have an idea. Redo your calculations with the thought in your head that I am the one who is going to be doing the killing.”  
“But I don’t want you to –“  
“I know. Unlike with yourself, you have absolutely no conflict about how you feel about me killing anything. So if you keep that in mind, then if you can’t find another way, you will be absolutely certain that there was no other way to find.”

Gellert wasn’t going to find a way – Albus knew. He imagined that Gellert knew too. But Gellert had enough guilt to fill a vault at Gringott’s, and Albus didn’t want to add to it. He was willing to wait while Gellert worked through the entire ritual all over again.  
“I don’t want you to be the one –“  
“And I don’t want you to be the one to spill an animal’s blood, either. But one of us has to do it. Most likely. Anyway, I am already working on a way to share the burden when we have to make a sacrifice, something to diffuse the effects.”

Gellert was not satisfied, Albus could tell. But Albus also knew that they were unlikely to discuss it further until Gellert had run the figures again.  
“Lunch?”  
“You bought something this morning?” Gellert asked. “We don’t have to go out?”

Albus considered Gellert. He had not left the room since they had arrived in Constantinople. But Albus wasn’t pushing it – yet. It had only been a couple of days - it might be nothing. And they had enough to occupy them in the room at the moment.  
“Of course I did. Stuffed grape leaves, olives, bread, cheese.”  
“Grape _leaves_?”  
“No one’s making you eat them. If you want to be the one to buy the food next time…”  
“No, it’s fine. I trust you. Lunch then. And after lunch you will pin me to the bed and do whatever it is you crossed the room to avoid?”  
Albus laughed. “Absolutely.”


	30. Reassurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aberforth re-enters the narrative; and Gellert and Albus prepare for the Wand purification ritual.

Chapter 27  
April 1900

Gellert eyed the unknown owl suspiciously.  
“Albus? Do you know this owl?”  
“No – but we may as well let it in and see what it wants.”  
Gellert opened the window and handed the Wand to Albus, and Albus checked the owl and the message for anything malicious – then for any spell at all. 

“It’s fine – let’s see… Oh! It’s addressed to me.”  
The handwriting …  
“It’s from Aberforth.”  
This owl had come all the way from Scotland, poor thing. That was quite a distance.  
“Ah! So, my advice helped!”  
“Yes, you’re brilliant,” said Albus rolling his eyes.  
“I am the most brilliant Wizard you will ever know!” Gellert insisted, indignantly. “I happen to know that you cannot get enough of my brilliance, and I believe that you need to show me some proper appreciation.”

Gellert took the letter and the Wand out of Albus’ hands and set them on the desk. He took Albus’ hands and set them on his hips, then wrapped his arms around Albus and kissed him. Albus was getting lost in the feeling of Gellert’s mouth on his when he remembered –  
“The letter, Gellert.”  
“It can wait –“  
“If I acknowledge that you are absolutely the most important person in my life, and that I never should have rolled my eyes when telling you that you are brilliant, because I have never met anyone more extraordinary in every way than you are… then may I read the letter?”

“I would prefer more than just a verbal acknowledgement…”  
“I will give you a full body ‘acknowledgement’ just as soon as I read the letter. You don’t want me wondering about it when I’m supposed to be focusing on you, do you?”  
Gellert sighed and released Albus.  
“You do have a point,” he conceded. Nevertheless, as Albus turned back towards the desk, Gellert took the opportunity to grab his arse.  
“Gellert!”  
“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”  
Gellert knew he did, but feigning outrage was irresistible.

“Come on then. Sit at the desk with me.”  
“Or – you could come sit in bed with me.”  
Albus fixed his eyes on Gellert.  
“Fine, but we are there _to read_.”  
“Naturally, Liebling.”

They sat up against the headboard, legs outstretched. Gellert leaned his head on Albus’ shoulder, so that he could read the letter, too.

 _Dear Albus,  
I didn’t want to use one of the school owls – I don’t know if the Headmaster can track those._  
“I imagine he does,” Gellert suggested.  
“He certainly could. I wonder whose owl this is then?”

 _Thanks for your letters. I wonder if you’ve heard what Black is up to. How he’s using Ariana. I don’t want you coming back and trying to fix things. I can take care of myself, and I cannot imagine the mess that might result from you pitting yourself against Black._  
That was – surprisingly sound advice, Albus thought. Uncharacteristic. Although… Albus might modify it to read ‘ _openly_ pitting yourself against Black’ – that level of subtlety would not likely have occurred to Aberforth, but Albus had already started intervening, and he had no intention of making a mess.

 _I suppose you are still with that degenerate._  
“Very nice,” huffed Gellert.  
Yes, that had definitely squandered what little good will Aberforth had earned simply by being absent.  
“Well,” Albus replied, “if there was any doubt that this is actually Aberforth writing…”

_If you had stayed instead of running off with him, we might not be have these problems. But nothing to do about that now.  
Thank you for asking about what I want to do this summer. I appreciate the option of not staying at Hogwarts all summer long. Black is meddlesome. It is exhausting. I am glad that you did not surrender custody of me entirely – that had not been clear._

“Aberforth thought I had just – given him away?” It was true that they had been quite angry at one another last summer. Still, Albus never would have thrown Aberforth away!  
“How could he -?!”  
“You weren’t exactly on the best of terms, Love. Did you tell him anything about the arrangement you had with Black?”  
“I told him he had custody of him while I was away…”  
“Which is not, strictly speaking, true. And did you tell him how long you would be away?”  
“No…”  
To be fair, they had not known how long. And Gellert had made it sound like they were not going to be coming back for years.

Well, whether or not Albus was right to be offended about the implication that he had permanently abandoned Aberforth, he was certainly offended at Aberforth’s suggestion that leaving England with Gellert was the reason their family business had been exposed. The opportunistic Headmaster was entirely to blame. 

_I of course cannot yet say what scores I will receive on my OWLS, but I am attempting eight: Potions, Defence, Transfiguration, Charms, Arithmancy, Runes, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures._  
Eight?! Aberforth had never seemed to care much about school before…  
“Is Aberforth intelligent enough for that?” Gellert asked.  
“Maybe. He’s never been motivated enough, so any assessment of his intelligence is purely conjectural, one way or the other.”  
Albus had seen glimmers of Aberforth’s intelligence in his incisive sense of humour, but he could never tell if that was as far as Aberforth would ever use his mind. He thought that Aberforth had always meant to just take over for their mother, take care of Ariana.  
Maybe this was who Aberforth would have been all along, without the burden of caring for their younger sister. Just one more reason to feel justified in reporting her to the DMLE and having her committed to St. Mungo’s.

 _The Sorting Hat has been advising me,_  
The Sorting Hat?!  
_and it thought that perhaps it was possible for there to be more than one intelligent Dumbledore. We’ll see._  
Well, finally. Who knew that Albus would be grateful to a hat?

_Getting to the point. My intention is to position myself for a Potions Mastery after graduation. So after this year, I imagine that I will drop Transfiguration and Defence, and pick up the Healing Arts class that becomes available to Sixth years with O’s in Potions and Herbology._

Aberforth had been busy. Or had he been planning this all summer and never told Albus? No, they had talked about Aberforth’s class schedule just a couple of weeks before Albus had left. So this was indeed new. ‘The Sorting Hat has been advising me…’ This was probably the doing of that Hat, too.  
Albus had always thought that the Hat was more powerful than anyone knew. How could a mind reader be satisfied being trotted out once a year? But Albus had not known that it visited individual students. So – the Hat had a secret life. Interesting. What were the limits of this Hat’s capabilities? 

Had the Hat suggested Potions? Or had that been Aberforth’s choice? Albus felt like he didn’t know his brother at all. And he felt a bit guilty about that – but only for a moment. Aberforth’s temper, and his ridiculous opinions about how best to care for Ariana, had inevitably come between them. It was not something that could have been helped. But perhaps at a distance…

 _I have to admit that you are more diplomatic than I am, and have better connections. Is it possible that you could arrange for me to spend the summer in Meteora? Brother Grigorios left last year, and this year’s Potions professor is abysmal. I would like to have some in depth Potions training. And Brother Grigorios was easy to be around. Maybe his fellow – monks? Is that the word? – would be easy to be around, too. Anything would be better than staying at Hogwarts._  
Yes, Brother Grigorios was ‘easy to be around.’ ‘Calming’ was probably what Aberforth meant, really.  
Albus had been a favourite student of Brother Grigorios, who had been the Potions Professor at Hogwarts for Albus’ Third through Seventh years. Albus was not surprised that the monk had not stayed longer. He had spoken to Albus more than once about missing his monastery. Not to mention missing the sound of his native language.  
“I will write to Brother Grigorios right away.”

“He’s in Meteora?” asked Gellert. “You had suggested going to Meteora. Something about Christians in Greece.”  
“Oh! Meteora is a collection of Christian monasteries –“  
“I know Christians, but monasteries?”  
“I think other religions have them too. It is a group of men who live together studying God and praying and so on. There’s a magical monastery, and our old potions professor was from there. It sounds like he has returned.” 

“Wizards? Living together?”  
Albus laughed. “Not like that. They are celibate. No sex.”  
Gellert looked dismayed. Albus began laughing harder.  
“I don’t see what is so funny.”  
“Just – that –“ Albus gasped for air. He waited to speak any further until he had his breathing under control. “Not having sex is not the worst thing that could happen to a person.”  
Gellert looked at Albus sceptically.  
“Ok, well maybe it would be for you. But the people living there willingly chose it. They’re not forced.” Albus kissed Gellert on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Love - I won’t let anyone carry you off to live in a monastery.”

“It is not just about _me_ – I can’t believe that anyone would ever agree to something so absurd!“  
“Sex is not as important to everyone as it is to you.”  
“To us!” Gellert protested insistently.  
That was fair. “You’re right. To us. Sex is not all that important to some of these monks, and to others it is important, but they are keeping this discipline because God is more important to them.”  
“I think their God can still be important in bed.”  
Gellert was so indignant about this. Albus really didn’t see what the problem was. But it seemed better not to push.

“Yes, well. Monasteries are all about peaceful cooperation. It might be exactly what Aberforth needs to help him find a way to keep his temper in check.”  
‘And he’s too young to be having sex,’ Albus almost said. But Gellert had had sex at that age, so he considered that such a comment might be neither kind, nor welcome.

 _I don’t suppose you are planning to spend the summer in England._  
“Not bloody likely,” griped Gellert.  
“Learn that expression from Martin the barman, did you?” Albus teased.  
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gellert replied with a wicked smile. It was almost enough to make Albus abandon the letter and tackle Gellert. 

“I _would_ like to know,” Albus said, feigning jealousy. “Always on and on about that Muggle.”  
“Hmm. He is difficult to forget. The way he always worked with his sleeves rolled up… I would keep an eye on his forearms as he pulled the tap.”  
Albus was suddenly not sure if Gellert was being serious.  
“You didn’t – really…”

Gellert laughed. “You are worried about a Muggle, thousands of miles away?”  
Not so many thousands.  
And yes. Martin was nice looking, after all. And was an excellent conversationalist, and – oh.  
“I suppose I can allow you this one trivial attraction,” Albus said, stiffly.

Gellert moved to face Albus.  
“Albus, mein Schatz. You are beautiful in every way. And brilliant. And – no, I shouldn’t need to reassure you. You are mine, and I am yours, forever. I married you because I will never need anyone else. I cannot get enough of you. What good is Martin when I have you?”  
“Good to fantasize about, I suppose,” said Albus, glumly.

Gellert ran his hand through his hair and tugged on it, as he did when he was frustrated. “You are all I ever think of, Albus. I haven’t touched myself thinking of anyone else since before I met you. Ok?” He ran his fingers down the side of Albus' face, looking at him with concern.  
“I never thought that I’d _actually_ manage to make you jealous of Martin one day. I thought it was just a game we were playing.”  
“Dangerous game, Love.”

Gellert sighed. He kissed Albus. “Let’s finish this letter. It seems I am not the only one in need of ‘acknowledgement,’ now.”  
Gellert moved back to his position at Albus’ side. Albus wrapped his arm around Gellert and held Aberforth’s letter with the other hand.

 _Can you make sure that Bathilda visits Ariana every day? I don’t like for her to feel alone. I know you probably don’t think so, but she is certainly aware enough to get lonely._  
“Is she not already doing that?” asked Gellert.  
“I don't know about every day, but certainly more than once a week. Nevertheless, I’ll check with her about it the next time I write. Or you could write her.”  
Gellert sighed in a put-upon way. They had this conversation often. It was as if Gellert had taken a magical vow never to write a letter. The only time Albus had ever seen Gellert use an owl was to send notes to Albus in Godric’s Hollow – and even then, no more than two sentences.

 _Perhaps write letters to Ariana and send them to Bathilda for her to read to her? I’m sure she would like to hear from you._  
“I think it is very unlikely that she has any interest in hearing from me. Or that she would understand what I wrote to her if I did.”  
“What would it hurt, Liebling?”  
“Oh? You wouldn’t mind me taking another twenty minutes away from you every other week to write to Ariana? Perhaps you would like to write to her, too?”  
Gellert didn’t answer. ‘What would it hurt?’ It was a waste of time, was what it was.

_I apologise for not writing back. I am doing fine. I look forward to hearing from you about what I will be doing this summer – I had anticipated spending the summer at Hogwarts, and it is a relief to hear that I will be seeing you in June, and that you will be making other arrangements.  
Aberforth_

Moving onto Albus’ lap, Gellert took the letter from Albus and tossed it on the floor.  
“Now, I believe it is time for you to reassure me that you think I am wonderful? And for me to reassure you that there is no one else for me in all the world.”  
Albus pulled his legs out from under Gellert, and pushed him onto his back. He looked down at him. Gellert’s face looked mostly excited, but a trifle uncertain. Albus wondered if his face looked the same way to Gellert.

He pushed into Gellert’s mind. Right at the surface were all the ways he felt Albus was perfect, and how sorry he was to have hurt him. Albus felt Gellert reach out – he knew that Gellert would easily find the same things in him.  
“I love you,” Albus said out loud, smiling at Gellert, then he bent down to kiss him.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Every morning, Albus would make tea. When he had finished his tea, he would walk down to the market and come back with dried fruit and cheese and a round crusty bread covered with sesame seeds. This morning, Gellert was awake when Albus arrived, which was unusual. Albus walked around to Gellert’s side of the bed, dropped the food on the bedside table, and leaned down to kiss Gellert.

“Good morning, Love.”  
“Well, it is now that you are here. I woke up and you were gone!”  
“I am gone every morning,” Albus replied with a smile, “where do you think your breakfast has been coming from, Sleepy?”  
Gellert huffed.  
“I think we need to start buying our food the day before, so that you can always be here when I wake up.”

Albus vanished his shoes and shirt and trousers, and climbed into bed.  
Gellert raised an eyebrow. “Any reason you left on your pants, Liebhaber?”  
“Eating comes before playing. I didn’t want to give you any ideas.”  
“Clearly you wanted to give me _some_ ideas, or you wouldn’t have taken off everything else.”  
“It may be that I find the idea of snuggling up against you bare to be irresistible.”  
“Ah.”

Usually Gellert would have taken hold of the world ‘irresistible’ and spun it into a commentary on his clear superiority to Wizards everywhere, and Albus’ great good fortune to have ever met him. Gellert simply saying ‘Ah’ after Albus saying ‘irresistible’ was – concerning.  
But eating first. Albus transfigured some unused parchment into plates, divided up the food, and handed Gellert his plate. Gellert set it down beside him, and patiently watched Albus eat. This was unacceptable. Albus ate only enough to stave off his hunger.

“What is it, Angel?”  
“What is what?”  
“Gellert, be serious. Obviously, something is bothering you. Just – tell me what it is?”  
“It is not so important. Right now, you are naked in bed, and –“  
“I am not entirely naked, Gellert, and it is only the start of the day. We have hours and hours to make use of this bed for something other than talking. Right now, it is talking. Or we can talk at the desk. Or on those cushions on the floor. Or we can apparate back to Budapest or Cairo and talk there.”  
“First we would have to put on clothes.”  
“Excellent point. I’m sure I would not have thought of that if you had failed to say so.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes. “ _I mean_ , I would rather not put on clothes. So, we stay in the room.”  
“Very well.”  
Albus waited.

“My violent impulses have been very difficult to restrain.”  
“Oh?”  
“Being suspicious of every Witch and Wizard I meet… could be dangerous.”  
Albus was not convinced that Gellert was, in fact, suspicious to the point of being _dangerous_. The Wand had Albus suspicious, too, but not enough to start a duel in the marketplace. But it was perhaps not so important what Albus thought.  
“Yes. That’s why we didn’t go into wizarding Budapest.”  
“Yes. But here – those who have magic are wandering freely – I might run into a Wizard anywhere.”  
“I see. And this is why you haven’t left the room all week.”  
“Yes.”

That was not sustainable. Obviously.  
“Have you finished your calculations for the Wand purification ritual?”  
“No matter the time or season, no matter what other elements, a blood sacrifice is required. The original ritual called for something small – a dove. But for us, that is, for starters, not quite enough blood. The best animal for our purposes seems to be a goat.”  
“Well, luckily those are easy enough to obtain here.”  
“Not so lucky for the goat,” Gellert muttered.  
They were selling the goats to be slaughtered anyway, to be eaten. It seemed to Albus that their goat’s luck would have already abandoned it before making it to market.

“Gellert – what about the ritual that you said we would have to do each time after we used the Wand to kill? Tell me we don’t have to kill an animal with a blade every time we kill a person with the Wand.”  
“No. No, that would be counter-productive, wouldn’t it? No, it will require the blood of the one who used the Wand, but not much of it. No other blood.”  
Albus nodded. That was good. He didn’t want Gellert going through this every time. And Albus had a feeling that they were (that is, he was) going to be using the Wand a great deal to – clean up. 

“Albus – I don’t want –“  
Albus cut Gellert off. “Do knives bind to an individual the way wands do?”  
“No, but – Albus, no. You will not be killing the goat.”  
“Gellert, it is less dangerous for me right now. But I have an idea for how you can protect me. If you wrap me in your magic, without touching me, standing some little distance away, then the intoxication for me should be less - and I imagine that, for you, the impact will be nearly non-existent.”

“Wrap you in my magic?”  
“Your magic is reaching for me already, anyway. It is just a matter of redirecting it. I’ll show you. You can – I’ll look at you while I’m doing it, so that you can read me and see what I am thinking and feeling and doing.”  
Gellert leaned over and took the Wand from the bedside table, then handed it to Albus.

Albus looked at Gellert, still completely unclothed, his hair a bit of a cloud in places. He waved the Wand and Gellert’s hair was freshly brushed, and he was wearing a dressing gown.  
“Albus!” Gellert protested.  
“You have been in bed for a long time this morning. Anyway, I think that this will go better with us sitting across from one another on the floor.”  
Gellert began grumbling under his breath about not being Albus’ vassal, and Albus ‘messing with’ his hair, but he did climb out of bed, and arrange himself fussily on a cushion on the floor.

“I am not going to be able to communicate with you while you are in there, Gellert – it would be too difficult for me to listen to your thoughts while at the same time actively manipulating the flow of my magic. So, if you need me to stop or change what I’m doing, or you simply have a question that can’t wait, you are going to need to pull out, ok? I will only hear you if you are speaking out loud.”  
Gellert tapped his mouth with his finger a few times. Albus waited.  
“I think that first you ought to wrap me in your magic without me watching. I don’t want your feelings and intentions to bias me. Otherwise, how will I trust that I really know how it feels?”  
“That is an excellent idea! Ok, just – relax.“

Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hadn’t tried this yet, but in theory...  
He pointed the Wand at Gellert and focused on his need to create a halo around Gellert, a shell protecting him from the world outside. A barrier through which magic could pass in only one direction – out from Gellert, but not in towards him.  
He felt the magic pass from him through the Wand towards Gellert – he saw it like a golden glow around him. Albus held the shield for five minutes, to give Gellert plenty of time to explore what it felt like (and to establish that it was possible for the caster to maintain the shield for that long), then he suggested to Gellert, “Cast something simple, Love.”  
Gellert lit a fire in the fireplace.

Albus dropped the shield.  
“Did casting the spell feel normal?”  
“No different than usual.”  
“And it felt – “  
“Good – yes, I think I know what the result is meant to feel like.”  
“Excellent. Would you like to watch me do it? Or just describe the method to you?”  
“I think – let’s start with describing it.”

“So, I pointed the Wand at you first. Then I thought about surrounding you in my magic, protecting you, surrounding you, so that my magic stood between you and the world in all directions.”  
“And that’s it?”  
“That’s it. Really the Wand knows -”  
“Knows what to do when we just think a thing – yes I know. Do you think that it would matter if I thought about what I wanted first? Just – gathered my thoughts?”  
“That shouldn’t make a difference, I don’t think.”  
“It seems that way would work better for me. Let’s try it.”

Gellert closed his eyes for what felt like a very long time, then without opening them, he reached out for the Wand.  
Albus loved the feeling of placing the Wand in Gellert’s hand. It felt even warmer than usual this time. Albus supposed that, being connected to both of them, the Wand must like being used to deepen their connection.

Gellert opened his eyes and pointed the Wand at Albus. Within moments, Albus saw Gellert’s magic reaching out to him from the Wand. He closed his eyes so that he could just feel. Gellert’s magic was spreading over him, from his chest outwards in all directions. It was warm and intimate and soft – sliding over his skin like silk. But even after he was completely covered by it, it wasn’t still like clothing, but in constant motion, like being caressed everywhere at once by warmth and love and power. Power most of all. No part of Albus was untouched. He was overwhelmed with sensation, and having trouble remaining upright. He felt himself becoming hard.

Part of Albus wanted to tell Gellert to pull back a bit – perhaps only protect parts of him – his hands, maybe. His head, his chest. Would that make a difference? Would that make this less sexual?  
Another part of Albus wanted to cast spells – see how much he was capable of with Gellert’s powerful magic wrapped around him like this. 

But most of all, he just wanted to bask in this feeling, for as long as Gellert could maintain the flow of his magic. He wanted to tell him not to stop, but he couldn’t speak.

Gellert’s magic seeped beneath his skin. Between his toes, touching his face, wrapping his legs. His entire body was contained in Gellert’s magic – his entire body felt the way his cock did when it was moving in Gellert. Warm and close and so so sensitive. And the whole time the raw power of Gellert’s magic was pulsing, containing him, separating him from the outside world until all there was was Gellert. It was intoxicating, it was -  
“Gellert!”

“Fuck, Albus – did you just – come?”  
That did not warrant a response. It could not be more obvious that he had. Albus collapsed on the floor, unable to move, unable to even peel his soaked pants off, unable to speak even for several minutes, until -  
“Gellert?”  
“Albus?”  
Albus didn’t reply, but started laughing. Gellert. Albus. Gellert. Albus. Gellert.

Gellert appeared in Albus’ field of vision.  
“Are you ok?”  
“I’m – yes. You are. Yes. Absolutely. Kiss me?”  
Gellert still looked mildly concerned, but he bent down and kissed Albus, and Albus kissed him back languidly. His lips felt _so good._  
“Exhausted. I'm - everything is amazing, but – exhausted.”

Albus sighed, then slowly sat up.  
“Did you – you didn’t –"  
Gellert touched Albus' cheek. It felt - tingly. "Listen to you, trying to get back to work. Do I need to carry you to bed first?"  
"I'm - fine. Just still really - sensitive? Or... Why didn’t that happen for you?”  
“I’m not sure. This was your idea, Albus.”  
At another time, Albus might have taken this comment personally, but he was still floating, and very little could touch him. 

“Did it feel - sensual?”  
“Not really? I mean, I felt close to you, but it was – abstract? No – subtle. Anyway, the feeling was in no way physical.”  
That was odd. Albus might have to try again? Gellert should get to experience this too. He wanted to make Gellert feel completely surrounded by his love for him, wrapped in it, dizzy with…  
Wait. Right. That was not what this experiment had been for.  
'Focus, Albus.'

“Gellert, how do you feel?”  
"Worried I broke you somehow."  
Albus laid his head on Gellert's shoulder. "I'm fine, really. It just - took time to recover. That was - like nothing I've ever felt before. You didn't hurt me. What else do you feel?"  
“Incredibly aroused, after seeing you come just from my magic, without me even trying to. I'm glad I don't have to feel guilty about that. You're really ok?”  
“I'm fine, Gellert. I - it's good to know your emotional state, but I was trying to ask - are you – it felt like a lot of magic. Are you feeling tired? Or drained?”  
“I think the Wand amplified my magical output. It wasn’t really that much. I don’t think.”

Albus wondered which of Gellert’s magics had been involved in weaving the protective layer around Albus – that might have been part of it. Or –  
“Gellert? What were you trying to do exactly? What were you thinking about?”  
“I was thinking about protecting you, about how much I love you, about surrounding you – that seemed especially important, since you said that word twice, and – oh!”  
“Oh?”  
“I wanted your attention focused elsewhere than the sacrifice – to be focused on life instead of death. And I wanted no part of you untouched by my protection.”  
“Well. You did that part well. You were touching me everywhere at once. Everywhere. And your protection was like a living thing, grabbing at me, massaging me, swimming around me.”  
Albus realized that he had not described what he had done in a particularly detailed way. He had been surrounded alright.

“Ah – I don’t suppose you’d –“  
“Like to try to do that for you? I have been thinking about it since asking you if this was what you experienced. When you said ‘no,’ I knew I wanted to try again.  
“But first I want you to try something different. I want you to try to protect my mind only – and this might be more difficult, but – I’d like you to try to block any of my emotions from engaging with the world other than compassion and determination.”  
“You think this would work?”  
Albus had no idea. But it seemed that it couldn’t hurt to try. Only one person could draw the blade, but the book had said that it took two or more people to minimize the impact of a ritual killing. There must be a method. They just had to find it.  
“I think the blood intoxication might require emotional engagement.”

“Ok. I will try it. And then afterwards?”  
“And then afterwards, we’ll see if I can bathe you in such powerful waves of magic that you can think of nothing but your body and what I am doing to it, and you come screaming my name.”  
“I think we should do that one first instead.”  
“Of course, you do,” Albus laughed. “Hand me that Wand, then.”  
Once he had the Wand in his hand, Albus kissed Gellert. “You. Are my everything.”

Albus directed Gellert to move back to where he had been, about five feet away. He pointed the Wand at Gellert and asked, “Ready?”  
“Ready.”  
Albus smirked. Gellert had no idea – he was absolutely not ready.  
Albus closed his eyes, and walked himself through all of the things Gellert said that he had intended for Albus. Then he opened his eyes and smiled broadly at Gellert.  
“I love you.”  
And he watched his magic flow out through the Wand and begin to cling to Gellert, just as he had hoped it would.


	31. The Sultan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that Constantinople is not as good a place for Witches and Wizards as it once was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am hoping that I can have the next chapter out next week? But I’m not sure… the holidays are already making a hash of my usual writing schedule. Love to you all – be safe.

Chapter 28  
April-May 1900

The Wizarding District in Constantinople was not hidden as such. Most Muggles would not know where it was, and it was probably not safe to ask (if Albus and Gellert had even known how to speak Turkish), but Albus had heard that anyone could enter it – there was no special knowledge required. So, once they had purified the Wand and Gellert felt safe to leave the room with Albus, they spent their days walking around the city, relying on the stray person who spoke English or German or French – staying alert for anything that looked or felt unusual. 

After a week of this, Albus spotted someone he felt sure was a Wizard, so he indicated to Gellert that they should follow him. He knew that the man would notice them, but he wasn’t sure how to communicate with him without a shared language. He asked Gellert silently, and Gellert reached into his pocket and pulled out a pebble. Albus had to smile. Gellert was actually adept at Transfiguration, but he did it seldom, for the sake of their ritualized argument about its relative uselessness/usefulness. On the rare occasions when Gellert transfigured something, what he made was beautiful, extraordinary. Albus hoped for a day when they dropped the argument, so he could see Gellert’s artistry more often.

When the man had led them to a private place and turned around, as they had known he would, Gellert opened his hand palm upwards, revealing the pebble. He transfigured it into a crocus, which slowly changed into a yellow and green butterfly, hovering between them. The butterfly shifted through several colours and patterns before turning into a leaf and drifting gently to the ground, returning to a pebble.  
The man tipped his head and held up his hand, the back of it facing Albus and Gellert. Flames appeared on the tips of his fingers one by one. Gellert grinned broadly, delighted. Albus thought that was a spell he would like to know. More than that, he wished once again that he had worked out a translation spell that he could apply to speech. So far, he had made no headway in modifying the standard spell for translating texts.

Sure enough, the Wizard spoke excitedly in words they could not understand. Then in another language, and a third… none of them registered. Albus and Gellert tried the four they knew. Gellert apparently also knew a few words of Russian, which made the Wizard scowl when he spoke them. Definitely not Russian, then. The Wizard appeared to be thinking. He gestured to them to follow.  
‘Be on guard, Love.’  
‘Always.’

Gellert picked up his pebble, then they nodded to the man and followed him – and found they had not been so much as a quarter of a mile away from a street full of Magical shops and cafes and houses. Even with no familiar words being spoken, it felt like home: the cauldrons and herbs and shop windows, the feel of the magic swirling all around them.  
But it was about to get better – the Wizard took them down an adjoining street. He pointed to a window – it contained a display of books mostly in various European languages. The Wizard clapped each of them on the shoulder, nodded at them, and walked away.  
“This is the place, it seems!” Gellert said, and he opened the door.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

It was hard for Albus to walk past so many books. Most of them were used volumes, which meant that there were sure to be books there that he had never seen before. What if there was something on the varieties of magics? Surely he hadn’t been the first to notice it – perhaps it was knowledge that had been lost…  
Gellert grabbed Albus’ sleeve as he was about to wander off.  
“We haven’t spoken more than ten words to anyone but each other since coming to Constantinople. I am starving to hear words I understand. We should speak to the man behind the counter first of all.”  
Well, that was fair. Gellert was his favourite person, but that did not mean that he didn’t need to speak to other people. He was feeling as edgy as Gellert was. And they were planning to spend months here. There would be plenty of time to shop, Albus told himself, forcing himself to ignore the packed shelves and walk with Gellert to the sales counter.

Gellert began with German. They had overheard that Kaiser Wilhelm seemed to be currently in favour with the Ottoman government, so perhaps Gellert was thinking that it would behoove them to start there. Or perhaps it just felt natural.  
“You are from Germany, then?” the man behind the counter asked.  
Gellert sighed. “Yes. Well. It is different in Europe. If I did not have Magic, I would be from Germany. The Magical Government covers only what is now southern Germany.”  
“Bavaria, then?”

Albus hid a smile. The man (Wizard? Bookstore owner?) had made a new friend. That Bavaria was known in Constantinople would be – well, now Gellert would say, ‘Of course! Everyone knows Bavaria!’ But Albus knew that in this moment, Gellert was surprised and gratified – particularly after having been asked if he was from Germany. Albus was beginning to wonder if, in fact, this question had been a test of sorts, to see if they were Wizards or Muggles. No Wizard was from Germany, in a sense. 

“And him?” the man asked, gesturing at Albus.  
“England,” said Albus in German, then in English, “I’m from Britain.”  
“And you are in Constantinople. That is far from home.”  
“We had heard that Constantinople was more open – that magical and non-magical people live together openly in peace, that even the Sultan keeps Wizards as advisors.”

The man cast – something that must have been a Hominem Revelio. (Wizard, then.) It seemed that the spells here were spoken in some other language. It didn’t sound like Greek, which is what Albus would have assumed, given what little he knew of the area’s history – the split of the Roman Empire between Greek and Latin speakers. This was unrecognizable to Albus. Arabic maybe? Assyrian? Aramaic? He would have to look into it.  
In any case, the Wizard seemed satisfied that there was no one in the store besides the three of them. 

“The current Sultan has grown increasingly paranoid. He has expelled every magical person from the palace. Including a handful of Witches that were in his harem. Even one of his own children.”  
Gellert and Albus looked at one another. Their information had clearly been out of date. How long had this been going on? What would it mean for other Witches and Wizards in the Empire?  
The Wizard gestured to a door behind the counter that had not been there before. “I think perhaps you ought to come with me.”

Albus and Gellert looked at one another.  
‘Do we trust him?’  
‘I am not sure. Do you have the Wand?’  
‘Yes. Always here.’  
Gellert nodded at Albus.  
‘Ok. Let’s risk it.’

The Wizard opened the door, and they entered a messy stockroom. With a clap of his hands, an opening appeared in the floor and one of the bookshelves emptied and became a ladder which dropped down through the hatch.  
The shopkeeper gestured at the ladder. “You will find friends here.”  
“And how do we get out?”  
“Apparition. You enter this way only the first time. After that, the way is closed to you.”

Albus didn’t like this at all. On a ladder, they would be vulnerable. They would put up shield charms, of course, but nonetheless.  
“How do we know we can trust you?”  
The Wizard came closer to Albus, took both of his hands, and leaned his forehead against Albus’. “On my magic, no harm will come to you or your friend in this place.”  
It was a true magical vow – Albus could tell by the way magic extended from where their hands touched to wrap up his arms, the way that he could feel himself breathing in the other Wizard’s magic, and his magic reaching out to the one making the vow.  
He released Albus and took a step back. 

Albus nodded. “Thank you.”  
“Thank _you_ ,” said the shopkeeper. “You cannot be too careful in these times. The suspicion of one may save many.”  
Albus looked at Gellert.  
‘You’re satisfied?’  
‘A true magical vow. We will be safe here.’  
Gellert moved to the ladder and put his foot on the first rung.

“Gellert -”  
Gellert nodded at the Wizard. “He said we wouldn’t come to any harm – so it shouldn’t matter which one of us goes first.”  
Very well to say so, but Albus knew that Gellert was in fact doing this out of an inclination to protect Albus, which – they were going to have to have a talk about. Albus would not have Gellert endangering himself, even for him. 

When Albus hopped off the next to last rung, he found a space lit by floating lanterns, casting a warm almost orange light. The majority of the room was filled with several unusually large tables. Most tea houses were filled chiefly with tables for two or four, but these tables could accommodate ten or more. They seemed to be divided by language: French, Greek, German, Hungarian… Gellert moved towards the Hungarian speaking table, and Albus moved to a French speaking table. They would learn more if they split up and compared notes later. 

There were people of all nationalities at the table Albus chose: another Brit, an Egyptian, two Turks, and naturally 3 or 4 Frenchmen. Or, Albus thought they were French, but one of them proved to be Swiss. They did not break their conversation for introductions – it seemed that simply being admitted to the room was recommendation enough.  
However, one of the Wizards conjured a glass for Albus, and passed him an odd-looking stacked teapot and a plate of biscuits that proved to be almond flavoured shortbread.

“I do not believe there is much risk, as long as Wizards stay out of politics.”  
“I disagree. It is not enough to stay out of politics – we must close ourselves off from those without magic, as they do in Europe. Hide ourselves.”  
“Would this work?” asked Albus. “It took many generations for magic to become a myth to the Muggles in Britain. It is not possible to Obliviate an entire Empire overnight. You will be sought out.”  
“And how would you have us deal with this situation?”  
“I am not sure. I have just arrived. Tell me about the situation.”  
The Wizards spoke over one another, trying to share the parts they thought most important: about the Armenians having marched in protest in Constantinople, and the subsequent massacres. About the ever-growing paranoia of the current Sultan. About his fear of the power of magic, and the expulsions of Wizards and suspected Wizards not only from the palace, but now from any government position. About any perceived threat being met ultimately with murder…  
“First the Armenians. The Wizards here will be next, if they do not do as we do in France.”

Albus had been so wrapped up in the conversation, he hadn’t heard Gellert come up behind him.  
“We don’t want to be late for lunch, Albus.”  
Interesting. They hadn’t used that code in a long time.  
Albus made his excuses, and they apparated back to their room.

Gellert collapsed into bed the moment that they arrived. Albus could tell by the distant look on his face that he had had a vision – a bad one.  
“Do we have any –“  
“Alcohol? No. I can give you a calming draught.”  
Gellert groaned. “Will that also help with the headache?”  
“No,” said Albus, “But I have something for that too, Love. Just a moment.”  
Albus accio-ed the necessary vials and handed them to Gellert. He sat up just enough to take the potions, and then lay back down.

“They’re wrong, you know,” Gellert said. “First the Armenians… and then the Armenians.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“One of the Turks at your table? Actually an Armenian. He will be dead in 20 years, together with most of his people. He will be killed for being Armenian. Not for being a Wizard. I – it was too much. I had to leave.”  
“Do you think that the Wizards will not be killed then?”  
“I can’t say. I saw nothing about that either way. But at my table, the majority were in favour of hiding. They are moving in the wrong direction. Because of this one man’s paranoia.”

“One man. This Sultan has too much power.”  
“He kills anyone who says so.”  
“Now… what could the solution to this possibly be, I wonder…”  
“Albus. I do not have the energy right now to deal with your assassination arguments. I’ve just seen a lot of dead bodies, and what I need is for you to shut up and hold me. If that is possible for you.”

Albus sighed. This was the second time that he had mishandled Gellert after a particularly bad vision. At least the calming draught must be working. Gellert was allowing Albus to touch him.  
“Can I – you have too many clothes on, Love. You are going to overheat. Is it ok if I strip you down to one layer only?”  
“Strip me down all the way if you want, just get in bed with me and help me fall asleep.”  
Albus was not going to take all of Gellert’s clothes off – that seemed counterproductive if Gellert was simply wanting to be held. Everything but pants, then.  
He turned Gellert in the bed so that his head was on his pillow, and then he climbed in beside him. 

Gellert rolled over on his side, facing away from Albus. Albus snuggled in as tightly as he could before wrapping his arm around Gellert. Gellert grabbed onto Albus’ hand with one of his own and Albus kissed Gellert’s back. He wished he didn't need reminding that Gellert needed to feel cared for after one of these visions. For Albus, it was new and interesting information, but for Gellert...  
“Do you need me to make it darker in here, Love?”  
“Leave it. I nap better in the sunshine.”  
Albus kissed Gellert one more time and used his magic to draw the sheet up over them.  
“I love you, Gellert. I’m here.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Finding Wizarding shops meant that Gellert was able to purchase all of the items he needed for his potions.  
The first potion for the tattoos was more complicated than Albus had imagined – it seemed to demand attention every three to four hours, day and night. It was not unusual for Albus to wake in the middle of the night and discover that Gellert was not in bed. Albus had offered to help, so that Gellert could get more sleep, but Gellert had refused. It was beginning to make Gellert cranky, so Albus was thinking of bringing it up again – insisting for the sake of their relationship.

After a week of this, the next time Albus woke to an empty bed, he decided he would wait up, so that he could at least ask after Gellert’s work. But ten minutes later, when he saw Gellert, awash in moonlight, walking back towards the bed wearing only his pants, Albus decided that nothing was particularly important aside from touching his husband. He couldn’t wait long enough for Gellert to make it all the way back to the bed – Albus met Gellert halfway and wrapped his arms around him – one hand exploring his back, the other grabbing Gellert’s arse and pulling him in closer.  
“Come with me to bed?”  
Gellert crashed his mouth against Albus’, one hand on his arse, and the other grasping the back of Albus’ neck. 

Albus tangled both of his hands in Gellert’s hair. It was almost too much. It was everything he wanted. Gellert was everything he wanted.  
He broke away long enough to pant, “The floor – is good – too…”  
Gellert’s tongue was once again in his mouth, demanding, persistent. Albus noticed the floor becoming springier, softer. Gellert had cast a wandless cushioning charm _while kissing him senseless?_ For all the gods. 

Albus dropped to his knees and sucked Gellert’s cock into his mouth.  
“Ahhh – Albus?”  
“Mmmhmm?” Albus hummed, without removing his mouth.  
“Nnngh – I – was going – to – want to – be – gah! Albus! Inside you!”  
Albus removed his mouth for a moment, “Technically speaking, you in fact were –“  
“Albus!”

“There’s plenty of time for you to fuck me afterwards, I imagine.”  
He licked a stripe along the crease where Gellert’s leg met his body – once, twice, then drifting his mouth over to tease Gellert’s balls, all the time pumping Gellert’s cock with his hand.  
“Now, Albus – please?”  
Albus stopped, planted an open-mouthed kiss on Gellert’s inner thigh, and looked up. “Now now? Or can I make you come first?”  
“What makes you think I’ll have anything left to give you after you make me come?”  
Albus smiled innocently. “Past performance?”

Gellert threw his head back and laughed. “Past performance. You are probably right. Have you been taking notes, Professor? Making graphs and calculations?”  
Albus blushed.  
“Oh, you have! You are outstanding. By all means, make me come with your mouth. For the sake of research. We shall note how long it takes before I am ready to claim your arse afterwards.”  
Albus bit his lip and looked down. 

Gellert knelt so that he was on eye level. “Oh, Albus. I didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious. I love you. I love how curious you are about everything, how much you need to understand your world. I am flattered to be the object of your study. And I can only think that it is improving our sex. Just so long as you are observing afterwards, and not getting stuck in your research brain during sex.”  
“Oh no. Ecstasy brain is definitely predominant.”  
Gellert kissed Albus firmly. “I’m glad to hear it. Shall I stand back up now? Or –“

“Is it alright if we move straight on to you being inside of me?” Gellert lifted an eyebrow at Albus. Fair enough, after his pedantic teasing earlier.  
“I think I – I’ve lost –“  
“Lost the moment? I’m sorry, Love.”  
Gellert kissed Albus gently.  
“I’m starting to miss your long hair. I keep going to brush it away from your face, and it’s not there.”

Before Albus could reply, Gellert kissed him again.  
“Liebling. This kneeling is not the most conducive…”  
Albus bit his lip. “You want me to…?”  
“To lie down? Yes.”  
Albus lay down, and Gellert looked down at him. “It is hard to know where to begin – I want to kiss you everywhere at once. But… someone needs help turning his brain off, I think, and there is only one sure way to do that.”  
Gellert’s eyes fell on Albus’ cock, and Albus gasped.

“I haven’t even touched you!” Gellert laughed.  
“You have an extraordinary mouth. I could come just from the anticipation,” Albus answered.  
“Hmm… well, Professor, we are not going to test that hypothesis today.”  
Gellert bent down and took Albus in his mouth, and Albus groaned, his mind already beginning to empty.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Gellert and Albus continued to meet with Wizards in the hidden tea house. (When Albus asked, he learned that Witches were kept strictly segregated, and had their own meeting places.) Often, Albus would go without Gellert, because Gellert continued to insist on supervising the potion by himself – and as they drew closer to time, the potion needed more and more attention. Soon, there would be a second potion brewing at the same time, and Gellert would be stuck in the room.  
Albus had quietly begun to accumulate a group of Wizards who seemed especially aggravated by the Sultan. He focused on Wizards who had been born in the Ottoman Empire. There was also a Greek Wizard and a French Wizard in their group. 

They met in a safe house procured by Davit Keshishian, the Armenian Wizard who had sparked Gellert’s vision. There they branched beyond complaining idly about politics into voicing – suppositions – that they might not have felt comfortable airing in a more public setting:  
What was the extent of the Sultan’s power?  
Who would replace him if he were to die?  
Who would be blamed?  
How would this shift international alliances?  
What would be the consequences?  
What would be the benefits?  
What would remain unchanged – what might need to be addressed some other way in the wake of the Sultan being removed?  
All asked hypothetically, of course.

Then things began to take a turn for the practical: How might it be achieved?  
The consensus was that no one present knew enough about palace politics, the occupants of the palace, the general layouts of the palace, or the habits of the Sultan to answer that question. 

“There used to be Wizards advising the Sultan, correct?” asked Albus. “Surely one of them would know.”  
“In spite of everything, they might still be loyal to the Sultan.”  
This was worth considering. Loyalty was a hard habit to break, even after one had been discarded unceremoniously. They would need to proceed cautiously.  
“Does anyone here know one of those Wizards? Well enough to have a sense of their current feelings towards the Sultan?”

None of them did. But there were plenty of Turkish Wizards who spoke neither French nor English, and so had not been coming to their meetings. It was decided that a core group of three of their number would form a new discussion group and see where it led. In the meantime, Albus would continue to study Turkish – he wanted to be able to communicate with these Wizards himself.  
As usual, Albus cast a light memory charm on the group before he left, so that they would remember him a mostly silent, largely academically interested member of their group. They would not recall that many of the suggestions made and questions asked had originated from him.

When Albus returned to their rooms, there was a Howler from Gellert suspended in the air. Albus reinforced the silencing charms before touching it.  
“Albus Dumbledore! You wait right there for me! I cannot believe you have been so dishonest about where you have been going every afternoon. Carefully wording things to bypass the Honesty vow. I would almost admire your cleverness if I were not SO INFURIATED WITH YOU! You WILL explain to me when I return. And you had better believe that I will be looking at your hand the ENTIRE TIME!”  
Then Gellert’s voice gentled, “Don’t be afraid, Darling. I love you always. But when I went to the tea house and found you had been going only twice a week instead of the six times I expected… I thought we agreed that you would not go running into trouble without telling me. Please – be safe.”  
And shouting once more: “Don’t fucking leave and make me come looking for you!”  
And with that, the letter disintegrated into ash. Which was too bad, Albus thought. It was the longest letter he had ever received from Gellert. 

Albus looked out the window, wondering where Gellert had gone. Was he out there looking for Albus? Or doing something else? It was not worth speculating – wherever Gellert had gone, it did not behoove Albus to try and find him – Gellert was angry enough without him doing the one thing Gellert had specifically asked (commanded) him not to do.  
So, he grabbed his latest purchase off of the desk – Suetonius’ _De Vita Caesarum_. Collecting data on historical assassinations seemed important for good decision making. And for later ~~arguments~~ discussions with Gellert on the topic.

Albus had been reading in bed for not quite half an hour when Gellert entered the room.  
Gellert just stared at him coldly. Waiting, Albus supposed. But waiting for what, he couldn’t say. It seemed that launching right into an explanation would be wrong. And saying, ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t be right, either, because Albus wasn’t sure what he had to be sorry for. Certainly, telling him about the death of Caligula would be a bad idea. So he set down his book on the bedside table and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, silently waiting, too. 

“You have been leaving every day, telling me you are meeting with a group of friends for tea. Where have you really been?”  
“I have really been drinking tea, with Davit and about eight other Wizards that I’ve met here and there, in a place that Davit secured.”  
“A – place. What kind of place?”  
“A safe house.”  
“And what. Do you need. With a _safe house?!_ ”  
“We are talking about – sensitive topics. Things we do not want to be heard in the tea room. If we put up a charm for privacy there it would not go unnoticed.”  
“Sensitive topics. Like the overthrow of the government?”

"What makes you think that?" Albus asked. He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left his mouth. Gellert was already angry. Asking that question was arguably disingenuous.  
"What makes me - Albus! What would you be needing to keep secret from Wizards who are already hiding? What would you decide to keep secret from me? I suppose necromancy is a possibility, but that doesn't seem like Davit's style. I'm not so sure about you, anymore."  
“Gellert – it’s not – we’re just talking.”  
“Just talking. Ah.”  
This was not going well. Time to pivot.

“You – umm – came to find me?”  
“Yes, I was going to tell you that the potions are ready.”  
“Oh! Wonderful! So we can try it – “  
“In as soon as three days. I want the potions to cure.”  
“So, we are committed to tying this into our magic?  
“I am not discussing this with you now, Albus. It sounds very much like you are plotting to assassinate the Sultan. And you did not think to tell me.”

This was not how Albus had hoped this conversation would go. Gellert was not supposed to find out until Albus was ready to tell him. But it seemed that there was no avoiding telling his extremely sleep-deprived and now suspicious husband about things that he had known all along would not go over well, even under the best of circumstances. And these were not the best of circumstances.  
“Not – exactly. First of all, I won’t be doing anything. This is a 100% Ottoman effort. Secondly, no one is going to know I had anything to do with it - I have been casting memory charms after each meeting."  
"Memory charms. With the Elder Wand, I suppose?"  
"Well, it is a very tricky business, the precision required, and the number of people I have to modify all at once." 

"So you are involving the Elder Wand in a murder plot."  
"I'm not actually killing anyone with the Wand." Yet.  
"Do you know for a fact that the Wand will differentiate between enabling you to get away with plotting murder, and being used to commit the murder directly?"  
"Well - I suppose..."  
"This is reckless, Albus!"  
Honestly. Gellert was one to talk.  
Gellert continued, “We have been here less than a month, and you think that you know how to improve their political system.”  
“I am only listening, and then asking questions. They are making their own decisions.”  
“If I know you, you are making it seem as if there is only one sensible decision.”  
“There _is_ only one sensible decision!” shouted Albus.

Gellert shook his head and started moving towards the door.  
Albus stood before pleading, “Gellert you said it yourself – the vision –“  
“Albus, it is entirely possible that the murder and destruction I saw would happen anyway. I didn't see who was responsible. Even if it will be Abdul Hamid, he wouldn’t be killing every person with his own hands. There would have to be many willing executioners.”  
Perhaps – but executioners typically killed only those who were already damned by the State. 

“Fine. Forget the Muggles. That wasn’t my point in doing this anyway. The Empire is moving backwards. We were looking towards them as an example of something that was closer to what we are aiming for than anything we had seen in Europe. And now the Wizarding community is frightened enough that they are considering hiding. Which will mean more work for us in the long run. We have an opportunity here to push the Ottoman Empire further in the right direction – because the Sultan has so much power. You said that it matters to ordinary people which person leads them, right? Well that is especially true in a place like this one. We pick the Sultan… and we change the future for millions of people – including thousands of Wizards.”

“Albus, you don’t know what the consequences of this action will be.”  
“No, but we know what the consequences of doing nothing are.”  
“No, Albus. We know _one_ consequence of doing nothing. And we don't know which something we would need to do in order to change it. But you said forget the Muggles. This conspiracy of yours, there is no guarantee it will succeed in its objective. If it succeeds, things may be better, or worse - there is not enough information to say. And if it fails? How much worse will it be for Wizards then?”

“How exactly do _you_ think we are going to change the world?”  
“Together, Albus! Together! You told me that we think better, make better decisions when we work together. You told me you were going to try to tell me things.”  
“I had every intention of telling you once you were finished with your work on the tattoos.”  
“Once I was finished with… How long have you been meeting at Davit's?”  
“Not – long?”  
Gellert looked at Albus skeptically.  
“A little more than two weeks.”

“And you didn’t tell me.”  
“You’ve been busy.”  
“Not too busy to have sex, to eat meals with you, to fucking read the newspaper with you, Albus! There have been plenty of opportunities for you to tell me. No. You are dodging the vow. Again. Tell me a sentence that begins, ‘The reason I didn’t tell you about my new friends and my secret meetings is…’”

Albus thought for a moment. What was the true thing to say here? He sighed. “The reason I didn’t tell you about my new friends and my secret meetings is that I was trying to avoid having this argument, which was sure to be worse when you haven't been sleeping.”  
“ _This_ argument is about your dishonesty.”  
“This argument is also about my methods.”  
“No, Albus. You have been perfectly willing to talk about your proposed methods with me in the past. You might even have convinced me in this case. But we cannot know now, because you didn’t give me a chance, did you?”  
That was – probably true, now that Albus thought about it. But Gellert had been so irritable, with all of the brewing interrupting his sleep. Any time Albus tried to talk to him about anything of consequence, it had ended badly. 

“Things have been – difficult lately.”  
Gellert pulled at his hair in frustration. “So, you couldn’t wait a couple of weeks? This was not about me. Don’t make it about me. You wanted to make your plans without the inconvenience of my reservations. You meant to engineer a coup without any input from me.”  
“Gellert, that is not true. I do need your help, your insights –"  
Albus took a step towards Gellert, but Gellert stepped away.  
"I was planning to tell you as soon as we had our tattoos, once you were well rested. So – next week."  
"And how far along are you with your plans already?"  
"Nobody will be doing anything to the Sultan unless it is clear that it would undeniably improve the situation. Which includes knowing who would succeed him. Which is unclear at this time. We are looking for some former insiders. Perhaps even a current insider. We - that is, _they_ certainly aren't at the point of having a concrete plan. It isn’t too late to shift the agenda with your input.”  
“You have already planted the idea of killing the Sultan in their heads, Albus! _It is already too late!_ There might have been another solution, but they will not be able to shake this one, the easy one. Who knows what damage you might have done, all because you were being secretive. Again.” 

“I really don’t think –“  
“No. That’s enough. You – I can’t. I’m going back out. You will not go anywhere except to meet me out for dinner at 7. The usual place. I can’t – just, no.“  
Albus took another step towards Gellert. “Please - don’t walk out. We can talk about this.”  
Gellert shook his head and opened the door. Without even turning his head to look back, he growled, “ _Now_ you want to talk? Fuck you, Albus.” Then he slammed the door behind him.

Albus leaned his head against the shut door. “I’m sorry, Gellert,” he whispered. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not going to leave them in this place for long, but… Albus is needing to feel some consequences for his persistence in keeping secrets from Gellert.


	32. I will come back to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to CindyBlack244 who provided the Arabic translations as well as a point of clarification about Arabic culture. She has been a marvelous help. Any errors that remain are mine.
> 
> In order, the Arabic incantations that Gellert and Albus speak translate to:  
> لَستَ بَعيدًا عَنّي أَبَدًا = You are never far from me  
> كَطائِرٍ يُحَلِّقُ = As a bird flies  
> سَوْفَ أَعودُ إِلَيْكَ = I will come back to you

Chapter 29  
May 1900

Albus arrived at exactly 7. Gellert was waiting for him, as was their dinner – Gellert must have ordered for the both of them. He had never done that before, but Albus was not going to argue about it. Gellert knew him well enough to know what he would like.  
Just as Albus knew Gellert well enough that it was entirely predictable how he would feel about what Albus had been up to lately.

“Gellert –“  
Gellert tipped his head. Right. Albus sat down and set up the privacy charm.  
“Albus, listen. This – do you remember teasing me about ‘The Muggle Problem’? In the beginning, you were only interested in my thoughts on the Statute of Secrecy because you were interested in me.”  
“I was interested in your thoughts because you are brilliant. And interesting.”  
“And good in bed.”  
“Gellert! No! I mean, yes. Yes, you are good in bed, but no, that has nothing to do with my interest in your thoughts. Which are – you know I want you for more than sex, right?”

Gellert sighed and pinched his nose. “Fine. Yes, I know. It’s difficult for me at the moment – I haven’t been seeing so much of you, you have been actively avoiding engaging with me about these ideas of mine that you claim to find so interesting, and yes, we have been having sex less often this week. Which, before you say so, I know is entirely due to how little I have been available, thanks to these potions.”  
This was true. They hadn’t had sex for three days, which by their standards was considerably less often than usual. 

“I -“  
“Let me finish, Albus. Please. The need to end the Statute of Secrecy - I have been thinking about it for a long time – thinking through strategies, what results I was hoping for. It has been only a few months since you have become fully persuaded. So, for you to take on a major project to change Wizard-Muggle relations in an Empire of more than 30 million people… without involving me… Do you understand how that might cause me to – become irritated?”  
Oh! Was Gellert… jealous?

“I’m so sorry, Love. I didn’t think of it that way.”  
Gellert nodded.  
“Good. So. Tell me about what your little group has discussed so far.”  
Albus was shocked. Given how Gellert had reacted earlier, he had been expecting much more – something. 

“Is that all? I mean, you were so –“  
“Angry? Yes. I am angry still. You should have waited for me. You _knew_ you were wrong not to wait for me, or you wouldn’t have hidden what you were doing. But I imagine you were bored while I worked all the time on the potions. I am trying to tell myself that it could have been worse, but there were certainly many better options for dealing with your boredom. Learning Arabic, perhaps, or Turkish or Greek, for instance. Determining how much of a consensus has built for separating from the Muggle community – whether there are yet plans for separating out an independent Magical government. Finding the portkey office.”

“That last one is remarkably specific.”  
“I was thinking we should go see my cousin in Baghdad. And as neither of us could picture it well enough not to splinch, and as the railway is not yet completed…”  
“Magic carpet?”  
“I suppose, but we would still need to steer it, and we don’t know exactly how to get there.”  
This was an excellent point.

“I will make inquiries about the portkey office tomorrow.”  
“Thank you, Albus. But – I wasn’t – we have gotten off track. The point is, I am still a bit angry. But I do understand that a bored Albus is a restless Albus is a bound to get into trouble Albus. It didn’t take a vision for the results to have been foreseeable. Not that I noticed – I was caught up in my own project. Not paying attention to you without even noticing I was not paying attention – that part is my fault, and I’m sorry.  
“In any case, I am more curious than I am angry. Or – I am now that I have had a good walk around the city to clear my head. It does not take long before I see something or think something that makes me wish you were with me, and it is very hard to stay angry with you when I am missing you.”  
Oh! Albus blushed.  
“I love you too,” he said, looking down at the table.  
“Yes, good, you love me. Now tell me all about your friends.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG 

Gellert might have been ‘more curious than angry,’ but that was not the same as not angry at all. When they got back from dinner, Gellert lectured Albus about the difference between neglecting to share something about their past and choosing not to share significant events that were happening in the present. Such as Imperiusing random Wizards in a pub, being kidnapped by an unknown Wizard (no matter how short a time that kidnapping might have lasted), and plotting the demise of a national leader with the aid of a hand-selected group of Wizards.  
“I am willing to overlook the rabbits, Schatz. I understand that you did not think them to be significant.”  
Yes, well, and Gellert had known about the rabbits before he had even done it, and found it sexy for that matter, so it was not surprising that that omission ranked as forgivable.

“You are on probation. You are not meeting anyone without me for a little while.”  
Which meant – Gellert didn’t trust him. Which was sadly completely understandable.  
On the other hand, Albus really did prefer to have Gellert with him. He had hated this last week, when Gellert was so immersed in tending to his potions that they missed at least one of their meals together every day. Gellert hadn’t even been coming to bed – he had conjured a camp bed in the room with the potions, ‘So that I don’t disturb your sleep, Liebling.’ It had been such a hardship for Albus that even the intensity of their argument had not been enough to dampen the surge of excitement Albus had felt when Gellert told him that the potions were completed. This meant sleeping together again! All night!  
Which made the final consequence of his behaviour that much more difficult to take.

“I don’t think I can sleep with you tonight.”  
“What? Gellert –“  
“Albus, I am still too angry to touch you.”  
“I can stay on the far side of the bed – I promise I won’t…”  
Gellert shook his head. “Albus. Even on those rare occasions when you are not touching me when you fall asleep, within an hour or two you are as close to me as paint on a wall.”

This could not be happening.

“Maybe we would both feel better if –“  
“Maybe we would both feel better if you didn’t keep these kinds of secrets from me.”  
“Gellert. You are punishing yourself as much as you are punishing me.”  
“No, I’m not. I have mixed feelings about forgiving you right now. Touching you, I think, would feel like forgiveness, and I’m not sure I am ready for that.”  
Albus nodded sadly. “Ok, yes. I understand. I love you.”  
“I know. I love you too.”  
Gellert went into the adjoining room and closed the door, and Albus stayed awake for a very long time.

In the morning, he woke to find Gellert standing beside the bed, fully dressed, holding onto the bag Albus customarily took with him to the market.  
“I thought I would buy breakfast for once.”  
He set the bag down on the bedside table, then bent down and kissed Albus.  
“Good morning, my Heart. You look like you had a rough night. I’m sorry.”  
“No, Gellert, I’m sorry.”  
“Ok, we’re both sorry. Let me in there so that we can eat breakfast together.”

Gellert vanished most of his clothing, then crawled under the sheet, and stretched out half on top of Albus.  
Albus closed his eyes and breathed in Gellert – his smell, his magic. It had been so long.  
“So – I’m forgiven then?”  
“I guess so.”  
The two fell back asleep, breakfast forgotten.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus woke to Gellert curled up behind him, running his fingers up and down Albus’ thigh.  
“Gellert?”  
“Albus?”  
Albus sighed. Normal. Normal was good.  
“Did you mean it? That I might have convinced you?”  
“You want to talk about this now?” Gellert’s hand crept around to the front of Albus’ thigh, closer, closer… “We could be making each other come…”  
That sounded – outstanding. But – 

“I think it is important for us to talk first.”  
Gellert sighed and rolled onto his back.  
“You are probably right. And then we make each other come?”  
Albus rolled over to face Gellert.  
“Gods, yes. I’ve missed you so much. I want – anything. Everything. You. But… this argument, I think maybe we haven’t finished?”

“And you want to know how I really feel about this assassination question. Ok. I agree that this is an instance where one man makes a disproportionate difference in an extremely negative way – and that there _might_ be a way to engineer a smooth transfer of power if he were removed. So yes, there is room for me to be persuaded. But there is a history of political assassinations here, and of messy successions. Were you aware that at least three of the past six sultans were violently removed from office? So simply killing a bad sultan is not sufficient to make a positive change – that has been tried before – many times. I feel that it is too soon to say that murder is the answer in this case. More thought needs to be given to the situation – more research needs to be done.”

“That’s what we’re doing.”  
“Yes, but with the decision already made, which biases your research.”  
This was unavoidable, Albus thought. The important thing was being able to change your mind when your research didn’t support the conclusion you wanted. It wasn’t possible not to have an opinion when you started. 

“How about you, Love? Did you mean it about not caring about the Muggles?”  
“No – I do care. Of course I care. But you said once that there is not a way to stop every bad thing from happening. I might not have felt compelled to act if it weren’t – strategic.”  
“Are you meant to meet again today?”  
“Hmm?”  
Gellert’s hand was in Albus’ hair now. It was very distracting. Gellert grinned wickedly and raised an eyebrow.  
“Right, umm – I am going to meet with Davit only. Well, and you now. You and me and Davit.”

Gellert’s other hand was drifting down his chest. Someone was not interested in waiting.  
“I think maybe these meetings should be less often, Liebhaber. Now that I am done with the potions, I want to spend some time with you – I’ve missed you.”  
Albus groaned as the fingers that had been in his hair traced down the back of his neck slowly.  
“Yes… I’ve missed you too, Gellert.”

“I wish you would have stayed in the room more, so that I could have seen you between times I was working on the potions.” On the word ‘seen,’ Gellert squeezed Albus’ arse.  
“But I understand that I was difficult to be around.” 

Albus drew Gellert closer and kissed him. He laid his hand on Gellert’s face and forced himself to meet his eyes.  
“Gellert, I’m so sorry. I could have waited. I don’t know why I didn’t see that I could wait. I don’t know why I was so impatient.”  
“Because you were bored. We can’t let you get _bored_ , Professor.” Gellert vanished their pants. “You have a restless mind.”  
“And you love my restless mind?” Albus asked tentatively.  
“Gods, yes. I love your restless mind.” Gellert pulled Albus on top of him and kissed him with an intensity that left them both breathless. “I love you always. Every part of you. Even when you are making me angry.” 

“Now,” Gellert continued, suddenly sounding brisk and business-like, as if his finger were not slowly circling Albus’ hole. “It is 11am. When are we meeting with Davit?”  
Whoever gave a fuck about Davit?  
“Don’t… care…” Albus ground against Gellert and bit down on his shoulder, causing him to hiss, “Albus…”

Albus groaned at the feel of Gellert’s cock against his own. He didn’t want to think about anything else at the moment. But -  
“Not for two… two… gods, Gellert! …hours.”  
Gellert sucked on Albus’ neck, causing Albus to moan.  
“Two hours,” Gellert gasped in response, and he grabbed Albus’ hand and led it down to his arse. He looked in Albus’ eyes and showed him what he wanted first – Albus kissed him frantically and began preparing Gellert. The feel of his finger entering Gellert, so hot and tight… every time it made Albus moan, thinking about how close he was to burying his cock in Gellert. 

All words left them as Albus worked Gellert open and nipped at his chest and shoulders, as Gellert stroked Albus’ balls.  
They spoke to one another only with their hands and their moans until finally Albus was entering Gellert, who shouted.  
Albus stopped for a moment, allowing Gellert to adjust, until Gellert grabbed Albus’ arse and moaned, “Please… more… need you…”  
Albus needed more too. He needed Gellert entirely.  
“Yes, Love,” Albus answered, working the rest of his cock in as quickly as he dared.  
When he was completely seated, he stilled once more, and looked at Gellert, powerful, intelligent, perfect Gellert, then he kissed him.  
“Ich liebe dich.”  
Gellert bit his lip, and his arse clenched around Albus’ cock.  
“I love you too. Now – fuck me.”

After they had come, Albus lay next to Gellert, gently running a fingertip down his arm. Albus propped himself up on one elbow and turned Gellert’s head gently with his hand, so that their eyes could meet. Albus showed Gellert exactly what Gellert looked like to him, sitting in the window reading, working over his potions, walking down the street, in bed beneath him, and over him, and pounding Albus into the wall. Albus showed him what Gellert looked like to him after they had made love, glowing golden with magic and love and happiness and energy. He showed him Gellert with his arm around a friend, staring at the clouds after too many visions, laughing at one of his own jokes, catching Albus’ eye across the room at a party. He showed Gellert tossing shoes over his shoulder looking for the perfect pair. He showed Gellert how his lips looked as they parted just before they kissed, and how his lips felt, and how his hair felt in Albus’ hands. He showed him Gellert when he was feral, thoughtful, relaxed, mischievous.

Gellert looked at Albus in amazement, speechless.  
“This is what I mean when I say I love you.”  
“Albus, that’s – it’s too much.”  
Albus smiled. “Nothing I could feel for you would be too much - you are everything, everything I want – and I could have shown you so much more. You are a miracle, Gellert Grindelwald, and I am going to worship you with every minute we have left to us.”  
Albus was committed to reacquainting his mouth with Gellert’s body, leaving no part of him untasted. There was still plenty of time.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Gellert bounded out of the room where he had been brewing. He pulled Albus up out of his chair and spun him around.  
“We are ready!”  
Albus smiled and kissed Gellert.  
“Excellent, Love. What are we ready for?”  
Gellert let go of Albus and stepped back, looking offended.  
Albus started laughing. “Sorry, Angel. I know – ready for the tattoos – of course I know.”

A pillow came flying off the bed and hit Albus nearly hard enough to knock him over.  
“There are more where that came from, Kätzchen, if you can’t behave.”  
Albus peeked around the pillow in his hands. “Promise?”  
Gellert sighed. “We do not have time for this. I want to get the spell done today, and it is rather involved. There are potions to apply, and Wand motions to master, and you need to learn the image of the tattoo well enough to keep it in your head, and there are the incantations in Arabic…”

When Albus had been out planning a coup, it turned out that Gellert had been teaching himself Arabic. It wasn’t spoken much in Constantinople, but there were many places where it was the predominant language, and in any case, it was the language with which spells were cast throughout the Levant and beyond.  
“Gellert, we have been working on this for the past two days. We are ready, Love.”  
“It must all go perfectly, or –“  
“We will run through it one last time, ok? That way we can feel confident that the spell will go correctly.”

When both of them felt (that is, when Gellert felt) satisfied that they were ready, they went up to the roof, carrying the two potions, the Elder Wand, and Gellert’s obsidian knife. They cast a light disillusionment charm and removed their shirts. 

Albus traced the outline of a small triangle with a knife, both on Gellert’s shoulder and on the inside of his wrist ( _very_ shallowly - Albus was nervous about cutting Gellert's wrist.) With a circular motion, he rubbed the first potion into each wound and quickly healed them, leaving behind only faint white lines. He handed the Elder Wand to Gellert, who imagined a thread of his intention reaching out to his hand, through the Wand, emerging from the tip of the wand and forming the lines of the tattoo – it would be drawn with his very magic and so tied to it permanently. He returned the Wand to Albus, who dipped the tip of the Elder Wand into the second potion.  
As Albus centred the tip of the Wand in the centre of the triangle on Gellert’s shoulder, Gellert spoke the words لَستَ بَعيدًا عَنّي أَبَدًا. Albus moved the Wand in a spiral from the centre outwards, then continued to run the Wand down Gellert’s arm, in the path the tattoo would take when it flew down to his wrist.  
As Albus moved the Wand, Gellert spoke the words كَطائِرٍ يُحَلِّقُ. Finally, when he reached a point about an inch from the triangle on Gellert’s wrist, Albus began tracing a line that spiralled in until it ended in the centre of the triangle.  
Gellert spoke the words سَوْفَ أَعودُ إِلَيْكَ, and a beautiful abstract bird appeared. Gellert had asked a Wizard he had met in the tearoom to help him form the image of the bird using the letters in the final incantation, in the traditional calligraphic style. 

The Bird remained on Gellert’s wrist, and Albus laughed. “You want to try it right away, I see! We still need to do mine.” The Bird flew up to Gellert’s shoulder, and they repeated the process on Albus’ arm.  
Gellert’s tattoo moved back down to his wrist.  
Albus admired it, then kissed it. 

“I do not think we should keep calling it the tattoo. I think we should call it The Bird.”  
“I think we should say it in Arabic,” Gellert suggested. “كَطائِرٍ“  
“Alttayir?”  
“Good! Yes. Now where should we go?”  
“Somewhere not far first. Mmm. I have an idea. Just – wait here. Activate Alttayir in… three minutes.”

Albus grabbed his shirt and disappeared, reappearing in their room. He conjured a summer breeze, and the smell of salt air, and the sounds of the waves on the beach in Normandy. He cast a quick Scourgify on the sheets. He slowly drank half a glassful of _very_ cold water, removed the rest of his clothing, and lay down in bed. He felt Alttayir warm up, and he pressed it to summon Gellert – who immediately appeared beside him in bed.  
Gellert smiled, delighted. “Well done, Liebhaber.”  
“Oh, that’s not all,” promised Albus, vanishing the rest of Gellert’s clothes and engulfing Gellert’s cock in his cold mouth.

“Aaaaa!” Gellert shouted. “What? How?”  
Albus removed his mouth and smiled. “Does that feel good, then?”  
“Yes! Please, Albus!”  
Albus eagerly tended to Gellert, who came much more quickly than usual.  
“I’m sorry Albus… so… intense…”  
“Don’t be sorry for coming, idiot. This just means we have more time to do it again.”  
Gellert groaned. Albus came up to lay beside him and hold him as he wound down.

“How did you know…?”  
“It was a guess. If it didn’t work, then… there are plenty of other ways we can enjoy each other, so it wasn’t much of a risk.”  
Gellert grinned. “Risk / rewards analysis? You are outstanding, Professor. I love you more and more.”  
Albus blushed. “I love you, too.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Less than a week later, Albus and Gellert took the portkey to Baghdad. As soon as they arrived, Gellert held out his hand for the Elder Wand, and promptly disappeared. Albus rolled his eyes. It was too obvious what had happened. Sure enough, Alttayir flew down to his wrist and warmed up. He laid two fingers on the Bird, and Gellert appeared before him.  
“Gellert! Warn me next time before you just disappear back to…”  
“Budapest.”  
“Budapest?! Gellert! We have only tested Alttayir over very short distances!”

Gellert had been so excited that his spell had worked that he had insisted on practicing constantly. Several times a day they popped from room to room, or to the roof and back, or around Constantinople… Until Gellert decided that they were ready for longer distances. Albus had agreed, but… Hungary to Baghdad?!  
“I knew it would be fine. It should work over any distance, really.”  
“Yes, but… Fine. You are here now. I suppose there’s nothing to be upset about.”  
‘In fact, that was terrifically hot, and I am going to tear your clothes off at the first opportunity.’  
‘Unfortunately, that is going to have to wait, Liebhaber.’ 

“I see my cousin,” Gellert added out loud, waving to a young man about twenty yards away.  
“I am eager to meet him,” Albus answered.  
‘But as soon as we are alone, I am going to find a wall to push you up against and…’ Albus sent an image of Gellert with his back to Albus, Albus’ cock in his arse.  
“Berndt!” Gellert said in a strained tone, laying a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “So good to see you! This is my friend, Albus.”  
Albus sighed internally. Friend. 

Berndt apparated them directly to his home, where they met his wife, Maryam, and their baby, whose name Albus did not catch, though he knew Gellert would fuss at him about it later.  
Maryam was a local, and a Muggle – an orphan who had been raised by a Wizarding family. Berndt had first come to Baghdad to study with her Uncle Aarash, one of the custodians of the House of Wisdom, and had met Maryam when having dinner at his house.  
Given the attitudes towards Muggles in Bavaria, Berndt would not be going home. Aarash had taken him on as an apprentice. 

Albus was relieved when Maryam greeted them in German, given that he didn’t speak Arabic at all.  
“Berndt has taught me. He would like for our son to speak German as well as Arabic.”  
Then she turned to Berndt. “However little he will use it here!”  
Berndt said something to her in Arabic, and Gellert raised his eyebrows in surprise. Whatever Berndt said must have been very rude, because Maryam showed him the sole of her foot, which even Albus knew never to do. Berndt laughed.  
“Evil woman.”

Their house was relatively small. Berndt offered to extend the first floor in order to make rooms for Albus and Gellert, but Maryam looked at the two of them carefully and suggested to her husband that perhaps they would be more comfortable on the roof.  
“It is very nice at night under the stars. And it will be cool enough after dark that they won’t even need a cooling charm.”  
“They won’t have much privacy there.”  
“I have never known a Wizard to have trouble making himself some privacy,” Maryam answered with a wink, and Berndt blushed.

“Oh! I like you, Maryam!” Gellert exclaimed.  
“You may like her from a distance,” Berndt scolded with narrowed eyes, but his tone was teasing.  
“That is just fine. I already have a Grindelwald. Albus on the other hand…”  
Berndt looked at Albus and shook his finger. “You may not have her either. I think it _would_ be best for the two of you to be on the roof, well away from my wife.”  
They all laughed. Staying here would not be a hardship at all, Albus thought. He would even get to sleep with Gellert, surprisingly. The only difficulty was the heat – and that was no difficulty at all for a Wizard.

Albus had heard of the House of Wisdom. He had come across mentions of it when studying alchemy. It had been an early collection of many unique texts, both Muggle and Magical, but they were all thought to have been lost in 1238, when Baghdad was sacked, and the library’s books and scrolls were thrown in the Tigris.  
But now Albus was being told that the library had been saved. There were two Wizarding librarians who, as Hulagu Khan was approaching Baghdad, transfigured all of the books and scrolls into stones, and transfigured stones into replacement texts for the Mongols to destroy. The House of Wisdom had been quietly rebuilt and hidden under something like a Fidelius – except that there were four Custodians who acted as the Secret Keepers. Unlike a Fidelius, whose power would be broken with the death of its single Secret Keeper, these Secret Keepers could be replaced upon retirement or death, so long as they had designated inheritors beforehand. This seemed to Albus to be a very powerful spell, and he wondered how difficult it would be to cast. Surely more difficult than a Fidelius, which was itself very advanced magic.

The House of Wisdom did not just contain books on alchemy. It had been famous for their books on astrology, arithmancy, the healing arts, poetry, legends and history, and religion, and over the past centuries the collection had grown. Albus was hoping to find something on magical theory – where magic comes from, the reason for the existence of squibs and Muggleborns, and perhaps even something on the balance of magical potentials that he and Gellert had dubbed ‘threads.’  
Gellert was torn between investigating immortality or slowing aging, or instead looking at ways to mitigate the draw to blood violence. Albus hoped that he decided to pursue the problem of how to correct for the dangers of blood sacrifice – he still had reservations about Gellert’s interest in living forever. 

During the days they studied, and in the evenings they talked late into the night, sharing what they had found. Albus thought that Baghdad might be his favourite place they had stayed so far.

On the third day, Gellert and Berndt stayed back to talk while Albus went to the library to translate some arithmancy texts for publication.  
That evening, Gellert lay curled up tight behind Albus with his arm wrapped around his chest. He spent several minutes shifting restlessly. Albus took his hand and squeezed it.  
“What is it?”  
“I can’t get comfortable.”  
Perhaps so, but that was not the main problem. Gellert had to know that Albus was aware that there was something else bothering him.  
“Gellert –“  
Albus waited for Gellert to decide what to say.  
“Berndt. He says that he does not think that Wizards living with Muggles makes much of a difference.”  
“But surely – he’s in love with a Muggle.”

“I pointed that out to him. He said that it did of course make a difference _to him_ , but that the Ottoman Empire was no better a place to live than anywhere else overall. He added that Wizards are not wiser or more moral than Muggles, and so no more fit to rule.”  
“But – that has not been tested, really. There has never been a Sultan who was a Wizard – has there been?”  
“No, not as far as anyone knows. But leaving aside the question of Wizarding rule for the moment... because the two populations live together here - because the Empire does not adhere to the Statute of Secrecy, Berndt can practice his magic openly, wherever he goes. Surely that makes the Empire a better place to live for Wizards.  
"Or at least so far. I asked him if he was afraid of the Sultan’s possible coming crackdown on Wizards, and he said that he didn’t think the Sultan had so much control over Baghdad anymore. I think that he is wrong.”  
“And if he is right, then they may be invaded by someone else – Russia maybe.”  
“Maybe. I know that Berndt is the one who lives here, but – I cannot agree with him.”

“Have you seen…?”  
Gellert sighed. “The Wizards and Witches here will be going into hiding. They have – as much as eight years maybe? Perhaps a bit more. Berndt’s son will still be a child. It is wrong. Wizards have been living here openly for centuries. They are moving backwards, Albus.”  
“You want to change it?”  
“I want to change it.”  
Albus brought Gellert’s hand up to his lips and kissed it.  
“Then let’s change it.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

They had only planned to stay with Berndt and Maryam for two days, but in the end they stayed five. Albus was so happy there that he could have stayed longer, but Gellert did not wish to impose upon Berndt and Maryam any longer.  
“They are young and in love and need their privacy, Albus,” Gellert pointed out, kissing Albus. “Just like us. We will come back.”  
Albus knew that this was just a statement of intention, but he chose to hear it as a promise. It would have been too hard to leave the House of Wisdom without knowing he would return.

This time it was Albus’ turn to travel by way of Alttayir. Gellert went ahead with the Elder Wand to Constantinople, and then called Albus back to their room.  
“You are brilliant!” Albus exclaimed to Gellert the moment he appeared, holding him tight and kissing his cheek. “This is brilliant!” Then he added more quietly, “Thank you, Gellert. For ensuring that we can never be kept apart from one another.”  
Gellert murmured in Albus’ ear, “You are never far from me.”  
Albus answered, “As a bird flies, I will come back to you. Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long detailed comments are awesome, of course (thanks so much to those of you who have been doing that!) - but I am also so happy to get comments like 'Wow!' or 'Nooooo!' or something -- comments let me know you are out there and still reading
> 
> Thanks!


	33. Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… You know how I try to be historically accurate? Turns out… I have my underwear all wrong. When I’ve been saying ‘pants,’ I’ve been thinking about boxer shorts, basically. (BlueDevilJedi’s students, Logan, Noah, and Madison, have assured us that, at least if you are a teenager in Kent, you are familiar with what ‘boxers’ are. So, it’s not just a U.S. term. Therefore, I am not going to make this note yet longer by explaining what boxers are.)  
> But… I have learned that boxers weren’t a thing until the 1920s, apparently. In 1899/1900, what there was was:  
> 1/ Long underwear; or  
> 2/ Union suits (one piece: long shirt + long pants); or  
> 3/ Shorty union suits (all one piece: imagine a tank top attached to boxers); or  
> 4/ These truly awful looking knee length proto-boxers that were super flowy. Imagine if palazzo pants were shorts.
> 
>  **These underwear options are completely unacceptable!!!**  
>  Therefore, I am asserting that wizarding underwear is different – that indeed the pants are like boxers are today, and they would be worn with sleeveless undershirts that are *not* attached to them, because I will not have my boys looking ridiculous.  
> For once, I am not letting the facts get in the way. Probably because sexiness is at stake, TBH.  
> And also because I have no intention of rewriting scenes where Gellert is walking around in only his pants and driving Albus out of his mind.  
> (“Why not briefs?” you might ask. The textiles industry was simply not there yet.)
> 
> That is, Gellert is wearing pants when lounging around. And under Muggle clothing (ugh – 1900 men’s fashion is dominated by the ‘sack suit,’ which is about as loose fitting as it sounds.)  
> I am going to have to insist that under their Wizarding robes, they are wearing _tight trousers._  
>  Again, because sexier. How are they supposed to be admiring each others’ arses otherwise?  
> But you would not really be able to wear boxers underneath these trousers without them bunching up uncomfortably and making unsightly wrinkles. So – true story – when men were wearing tight fitting trousers in the early 1800s, they did not wear anything under them at all. (Interestingly, the transition to less form-fitting clothing has been attributed to the shift to mass production, so assuming the popular fanon that Wizarding clothing is tailored… form-fitting clothing – including tight fitting trousers!! – makes sense.) 
> 
> So – I will rewrite the scenes of them having sex while in the Wizarding world when I have the time. When they are dressed in Wizard-wear, and they come home and Albus takes off Gellert’s trousers, there will be nothing underneath. As Gellert has been known to say, “Easy access, Love.”
> 
> Here ends my dissertation on men’s underwear in the Wizarding world.

Chapter 30  
May – June 1900 

“We’ve been moving too quickly, Albus.”  
“Too quickly… What do you mean, Gellert?”  
“The original plan was that this would be a research trip. Taking action… I don’t think we know enough to do that yet.”  
Ah. By ‘we’ve been moving too quickly,’ Gellert meant, ‘ _you_ have been moving too quickly.’ They’d been back in Constantinople for three days, and already Gellert was pulling back from what they had discussed in Baghdad.

“But if we don’t –“  
“I know. Albus, I was serious about wanting to change things. But the only way to do that is to have the right information. It is not that I don’t want to do anything, only that I don’t want to do anything _yet_. There are too many variables. It would be easy to make things worse instead of better.”  
Things were already worse. And in less than a decade, the separation between Wizards and Muggles would be complete – at least in Baghdad. How long would it be before it was too late to stop that future?

“I still think –“  
“Albus. We aren’t from here. We aren’t yet twenty. We don’t know the history, or the language, or the culture. Yes, you’re brilliant. Powerful. But that doesn’t mean you know what needs to be done here. We need to listen to the Wizards who live here for longer than a month before we start thinking of ways to support their own efforts.”

“Gellert. Most of them want to hide.”  
“I agree that that is the wrong decision. Absolutely. So, we work with Wizards like Davit.”  
“Davit is an arse.”  
They were going to be meeting with Davit today, and Albus felt that it might be a pointless endeavor. At this point, Albus was unsure that they could trust Davit to tell them the truth.  
“He is a complete arse. But he agrees with us about Wizarding hegemony. And he has several good ideas. And with his help, we can make less mistakes.”  
Again, by ‘we’ Albus could only assume Gellert meant ‘you.’

“Perhaps it will be better this time. I think he was surprised by my arrival when he was expecting only you. We caught him wrong footed, and he was trying to regain his own balance by upsetting ours.”  
“Or perhaps he felt like we were not taking him seriously, and that led him to wonder why he was taking us seriously.”  
“Exactly. There are many possible reasons. Perhaps Davit will be more balanced today. Let us not judge him on one meeting when you had others that went well.”  
On this point, Albus had to disagree. Every interaction with a person was telling. And Davit’s willingness to suddenly take an adversarial position was a data point not to be ignored.

That first time the three of them met together – the day after his and Gellert’s argument – had gone not at all as Albus had expected. Davit had seemed determined to be obnoxious from the start, which embarrassed Albus, because he had told Gellert that they were on good terms – and until then, there had been every indication that they were.

It had all fallen apart the moment he and Gellert walked in the door together.  
“Davit, this is my friend Gellert.”  
“Yes, I remember. You are the true leader, then? The one I should have been speaking to all along?”  
“We’re equal partners.”  
“There’s no such thing. We have been meeting with Albus, now you arrive… I am thinking that this means things are progressing to a point where they are worthy of your notice.”  
Davit’s tone of voice was angry, but his face was blank, bored. Overdoing the occlusion.

“I have been otherwise occupied,” Gellert said in a firm tone of voice. “Usually we work together, but we have had too many projects of late. It was necessary to divide the tasks between us. The matter of the Sultan is equally important to both of us.”  
“So. If you have been dividing tasks, as you say, how is it that you have time for us now? Perhaps you are too busy still, and should simply ask your errand boy?”  
That was, of course, not it at all. But it was perhaps worse to confess that Albus had been going behind Gellert’s back, and that Gellert was here as a chaperone of sorts, to keep Albus out of trouble. Albus’ mood turned dark. It was arguable that Gellert _was_ the leader here, in fact. 

Gellert sighed impatiently. “Let’s stop playing this game. As far as I can tell, of the three of us, _you_ are the leader in this room. I wanted to meet you, to learn for myself about how Wizarding life is different in the Ottoman Empire than in Europe, talk to you some about our broader project and see if it lines up with yours, and so on. It seems that the Ottoman Empire is undergoing a great change, not least with respect to the Wizarding population, and while I have concerns about that, I’m sure that there are subtleties to the situation that I am not seeing. So. Enlighten me.”

Davit looked from Gellert to Albus and back again. “And this is the difference between Englishmen and Germans.”  
Albus clenched his teeth. Gellert met his eyes. ‘I love you, Albus. Do not let him divide us. Better together. Breathe.’

Albus turned to Davit.  
“Gellert is not a German. He is Bavarian. Things are different in Europe, Davit. The Muggles do not know we exist – we are a legend to them – a child’s story – and our cultures diverged centuries ago. We have less loyalty to the Muggle nations we are hidden in than to our fellow Wizards. As a result, I know little of whatever cultural prejudices you might hold against various Europeans, nor of the relations between Muggle nations. I am a Wizard first.”  
But even as he said it, Albus remembered Gellert teasing Wolf about speaking Bavarian, and living in Eastern Europe. There were cultural divides and international politics between Wizards of different nations. They just weren’t necessarily the same ones as the Muggles that they lived amongst.

Davit nodded. “Here, we are more loyal to the place of our birth. We know Muggles, live with them, marry them. I am more loyal to my fellow Armenians than I am to Turkish Wizards. I do not trust Turks, Wizard or no. But the Empire rules over us all, so I will work with them for as long as we share a common goal.”

“And how about us?” Gellert asked. “Do you share a common goal with Albus and I?”  
“That remains to be seen. Albus’ goal seems to be to keep Wizards from going into hiding here. Which seems hypocritical, given that Wizards are in hiding in his own nation, and in yours.”  
“Yes, we are trying to fix that. Our ideal is for Wizards to be in hiding nowhere. We had thought that that might need to be accomplished everywhere at once – if Wizards come out of hiding in Britain, will they be endangering hidden Wizards in France by doing so? Which is one reason we came here – Wizards are seemingly not in hiding here, and we don’t understand why this has not alerted other countries to the existence of magic.”

Davit laughed bitterly. “You spoke of children’s stories, Albus? To Europe, we are a child’s story. We hide ourselves from the Europeans with no magic – if the Wizards of Europe have deemed them dangerous, then why should we not agree? And so, every story of magic in the Ottoman Empire and Arabia and Egypt and so on… these are viewed as child’s stories.”  
This did not make sense to Albus. “But – the people, the Muggles who live here, they clearly believe it – how…”  
“It is easy when we are dismissed as children, who do not know the difference between fantasy and reality.”

Gellert and Albus fell silent. Davit looked pointedly at Albus. Albus affected a partially-suppressed expression of chagrin, but inside he was smiling. Whatever else he had done, Albus could not be accused of being dismissive of any of the people he had met since coming to Constantinople. He had taken the Wizards he met with seriously. He had listened to their ideas, he had valued their input. He had admired their magical traditions and asked for instruction in their spells. He had recognized their seniority and demonstrated the deference due to their experience and age.

And Muggles were... the same here as everywhere, as far as Albus was concerned. Many were intelligent, but some were not, every one was some mixture of well meaning and not, some were more dangerous than others. Some made outstanding food.  
Albus might have been tempted to make the mistake of saying that at least the Muggles here were _less_ delusional, since they knew of and believed in magic, but that seemed unfair to the Muggles elsewhere who could not be expected to believe in magic if it was hidden from them.

Davit had gone too far, and in doing so, he had cleared Albus' mind – some of Davit's criticisms might be coming from a place of sincerity, but all of them were being aired chiefly for a strategic purpose – to test the roles of Albus and Gellert, and to express his own displeasure and confusion with Albus having withheld Gellert until now. Now that Davit’s game was out in the open, it was easier to play.

This made what followed easier to stomach. Because there were some legitimate criticisms to be made of how Albus had proceeded. As they went on speaking, it became clear that Albus had not known the extent to which Ottoman Wizards cared about what Albus considered Muggle politics, and so had failed to realize that neither a Greek Wizard nor a French Wizard ought to have had a place at the table. Nor a Brit, for that matter.  
Furthermore, he had been blind to the religious and cultural tensions between the Wizards in the room. Religion was more important to Wizards in this region – because they had never been forced into hiding, there had been nothing to blame the dominant religions of the area for. As a result, there were Wizards of every sect to be found in the Empire, and they were devoted to their respective faiths. 

This sort of religious commitment was all but unthinkable to a European Wizard. When the Church condemned them, the European Wizards had turned back towards the old gods. There were a handful who did in fact still worship these gods, but for many, the witch hunts had rendered any strongly held belief suspect – whether faith in the Christian God, the old gods, or even the new ‘scientific method.’ For them, belief in the old gods was nominal, cultural, a sign of unity with their fellow Witches and Wizards, but only relevant for expletives, children’s stories, and providing a rationale for holiday celebrations. 

“The International Statute of Secrecy,” Gellert said. “It isn’t –“  
“Isn’t international?” Davit asked, laughing. “Well, if by ‘international’ you mean ‘binding several different nations,’ then it is. If by ‘international’ you mean ‘global,’ then absolutely not.”  
Davit’s eyes were sparkling.  
They had known that magic was practiced openly here, and yet they had somehow not had this realization until this moment. Gellert’s focus until now had been on the International Statute of Secrecy, but that law was essentially European, binding only in Europe and in a handful of other places where Europeans had settled. But these were not the only places where Wizards were in hiding… Did Gellert mean only to overthrow the Statute of Secrecy? Or to reveal the existence of Witches and Wizards the world over? Because those were two different things.

“What do you know about other places? Like China for instance? I have heard that their Wizards are in hiding as well. But that must have happened for their own reasons, perhaps at another time?”  
Davit rolled his eyes. “And what would I know about China? It is farther from here than Germany, and yet you came here knowing only rumours of this place.”

Gellert sighed. “Of course. I apologize. I think… Davit, can we continue this conversation in three weeks’ time? In the meantime, it seems that people will speak more freely if Albus does not attend your meetings - and the French and Greek Wizards, naturally. Will you keep us advised of what is happening here?”  
“Keep you and Albus advised? Or you only, _Herr_ Grindelwald?”  
These attempts to play Gellert and Albus off one another were becoming tiresome. Regardless of whether it was purposeful or unconscious, he was not going to gain the upper hand in this way.

Gellert frowned at Davit.  
“We have an equal interest in your nascent movement. And however you might feel about us, Albus did play a role in bringing your group of co-conspirators together. I know we have made many mistakes, but we do see ourselves as having more in common with you and all Wizards anywhere than we do with the Muggles amongst whom we live. You might see yourself as more akin to your Muggle neighbors than to Albus and I, and in many ways you are. But you and Albus and I share a power that Muggles neither have nor understand. We share a life expectancy that Muggles can never achieve. In _these_ ways, at least, we are brothers. A persecution of Wizards is on the horizon here, and in this way too we are brothers. We want to do whatever we can to support Wizards here, and we believe that that involves keeping Wizarding-Muggle relations sane here. We would even hope to see Wizards have _more_ power, _more_ freedom than they have had before now. We know that we don’t know better than you about your own situation. But we do have a stake in what happens here simply because we are fellow Wizards. ”

Davit grinned at Albus. “Listen to your leader, bear cub. He knows something of diplomacy.”  
Gellert leaned forward threateningly. “We may respect your superior knowledge of your own culture, but that does _not_ give you any knowledge of Albus and I, including our goals, our capacities, or our magical power. You should know that I do not, in fact, have _any_ authority to hold Albus back if he chooses to demonstrate exactly what I mean.”  
Then Gellert turned to Albus, “Though we will both be inconvenienced if you kill him. No matter how slowly.”  
‘We need him to take us seriously. I know we’ve been hiding your wandless magic, but –‘  
“Gellert, don’t make threats. We do want him to trust us.”  
“I suppose trust is better than fear, yes. But I do not like the way he was talking about you.”  
“Very well. If he continues to be condescending I will… find something creative to do with him.”

Albus turned back to Davit. “I do hope that we are understood. Gellert and I have different styles. But neither of us rules the other. We respect one another. But respect is earned. We shall do our best to earn yours. We hope that, in turn, you will make something of an effort to regain the ground you lost today in earning ours. We may be young, but you _will_ be glad of an alliance with us in the future.”  
“You are a mere boy with outsized ideas – what could you possibly –“

Without a word or a gesture, Albus set a tiny tornado spinning on the table between them. It began to grow slowly larger and larger, until it began to pull in Davit’s tea glass, his plate, a handkerchief out of his pocket.  
Gellert began speaking. “ _Cub_ has a seat on the Wizengamot, the Wizarding legislature of Britain. He has connections across Europe, including in several ministries of magic.”  
The tornado had by this time started to pull at the Wand that Davit was now holding in his hand, and finally consumed that as well.

“My _errand boy_ has been published widely in every magical discipline.”  
Davit got up from the table and began stepping backwards as the tornado continued to grow, consuming the table, and the chair that Davit had been sitting in.  
“Albus’ magical power is perhaps the least of what he brings to the table. If you still possessed a table.”  
“You do understand?” Albus asked.  
Gellert laid his hand on Albus’ shoulder. “I think that perhaps he does.”  
Albus nodded and the tornado disappeared, all of the objects it had swallowed neatly arranged as if the tornado had never been there at all.

“And you have not yet seen what Gellert and I are capable of when we cast together.”

Davit looked angry. “I thought you said no threats.”  
“That was not a threat,” Gellert answered.  
Albus continued for him, “It was an invitation to consider whether you would rather have us at your side or halfway around the world unconcerned about what happens to Ottoman Wizards – or to the Armenian people for that matter. We will fight for you, but only if our contribution is valued.”  
And they apparated away through Davit’s robust anti-apparition wards.

The tornado was perhaps Albus’ most impressive wandless magic to date, and the moment they landed in their room, Gellert was tearing Albus’ clothes off and fucking him with abandon on the floor. 

But no matter how outstanding the sex was that followed that display of magical power, Davit having provoked it did not, in Albus’ mind, in any way excuse his attempt to get the better of them. He had taken their relationship from cooperative to adversarial, and even if they returned to a façade of comity, Davit’s rapid turn would colour Albus’ future understanding of him.  
Gellert might be right that they needed to deal with him – and deal with him together. And at least Davit was a known quantity. Anyway, there simply wasn’t enough time to meet someone else. They would be leaving Constantinople in two weeks. So, Davit it was. 

It seemed that they were no longer welcome in the safehouse, after Albus had set loose a tornado there, not to mention defeated the wards. After some discussion, they had agreed to meet on the roof of the new Bulgarian Iron Church, under a disillusionment charm.  
Davit was already there and waiting for them when they arrived.

“We are trying to identify who we would prefer to replace the current Sultan, and how to ensure that they are the ones who take control of the Empire.”  
“He has a son who has magic who was expelled from the castle, correct?” Albus asked.  
“Yes, but he is too young. We are looking for a brother or uncle who is particularly invested in that child. It is difficult when it comes to the Sultan’s children. They are often raised in complete isolation, in order to prevent them from gathering a following.”

Gellert could not restrain himself. “That is – perverse! That keeps them from learning how to form relationships with others, how to read others accurately… how do such people rule?”  
“It is indeed… short sighted. So, it may be that we need to look farther afield – to a distant relative of the Sultan. Technically, only the children of a past or present Sultan are considered to be in the line of succession but perhaps as long as the candidate is a descendant of Osman, that usual requirement might be overlooked. It is all about finding the right allies in the palace… it will take some time.”  
“Is there time?” Albus asked.  
“For instance, how far along are plans for a separate Magical government?” Gellert intervened.  
“Not far. There is probably – it takes a long time for these things to be accomplished even once they are decided. And nothing is decided.”

“Would there be Muggles who would be willing to engage in open revolt alongside you?”  
Albus looked sharply at Gellert. So often it came back to war with Gellert, and Albus could not understand why.  
“I think that is less likely.”  
Davit did not explain, and Albus was just as glad that he did not.

“We will perhaps not be returning for a year. Can you keep us informed?”  
“Will _you_ keep _me_ informed?”  
“I will send you monthly owls about any relevant news about Muggle politics, about perceptions of the Ottoman Empire abroad, and about possible resources for you. And if there is anything else you want me to - keep you informed about - then simply ask.” _First person singular, because Gellert cannot be bothered to write,_ Albus did not say. But it did occur to him that, at the rate they were accumulating correspondents, it would soon take up half his time. Gellert was going to have to start writing if he wanted for them to keep collecting allies.

“Then yes. I will reply to your owls as you send them.”  
Gellert added, “Albus said a year, and that’s correct, but - we can return before the year is out, if you need our aid earlier.”  
“Owls take a long time to travel – if I need to reach you more quickly…”  
“Then you can place an ad in a Wizarding newspaper. ‘AG – I miss you – D’ If we see that, we will come. Your choice – French, Austrian, British. We will have our agents watching all three. But send an owl too, in any case. We may be closer than you think.”

Albus managed to keep the amusement off of his face, but he turned to Gellert.  
‘Our _agents_?’  
‘It sounds impressive.’  
‘So Wolf, Artaud, and Bathilda are our _agents_ now?’  
‘Shut up.’

Davit nodded. “We are done here then?”  
Before Gellert or Albus could answer, Davit had apparated away.  
Albus made a frustrated noise.  
“It is out of our hands for now, Albus. It’s probably for the best. We weren’t going to stay anyway.”  
Albus wished that they _had_ been able to stay – they had learned so little here, made so few contacts compared to their time in France. And there were exciting developments taking place right now. Fetching Aberforth was altering their itinerary, and Albus was already beginning to resent it.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus was up, alone, sitting by the light of an oil lamp. He had woken up to be sick – had barely made it out of the room in time. Once he cleaned up, he had intended to climb right back into bed – he wasn’t sleepy, but he was exhausted, and it was lonely, being ill and awake in the middle of the night. But when he was just a few feet from the bed, he saw Gellert lying there, completely at rest, breathing softly. It made his chest ache, how peaceful he looked. Albus didn’t want to risk waking him. And he would be almost certain to wake him, because he was wanting comfort and would not be able to keep himself from latching onto the soft skin and strong frame of his too easily roused husband. 

He had a text that he had copied in the House of Wisdom sitting in front of him, but he couldn’t concentrate. He felt hot and fuzzy headed, and he didn’t think he had the right potion on hand for whatever this was. He would have to send Gellert out in the morning. He decided to draw a moon phase calendar. Ever since he had started studying ritual magic with Gellert, he had started to see his point about the importance of tracking the position of the earth with respect to the sun and the moon. This sort of repetitive task would engage his brain just enough to keep him occupied until first light. He was probably not going to last much longer than that before climbing back into bed and waking Gellert.

Albus had covered more than 8 inches of parchment in little circles and portions of circles when Gellert started shouting.  
“No! Albus, stop!”  
Albus moved to the bed so rapidly he nearly stumbled. He climbed in, knelt beside Gellert, and wrapped his hand around Gellert’s arm.  
“Gellert.”

“NO!” Gellert shouted one more time. His eyes shot open and he looked at Albus searchingly.  
Finally, he spoke. “You’re – this is real.”  
“This is real.”  
“You are – everyone is alive.”  
“You and I are the only ones in the room, Love.” Albus moved his hand to Gellert’s chest. “You were shouting for me to stop?”

Gellert sat up and threw his arms around Albus. He buried his face in Albus’ neck. “You were leaving me. I – You know when a dream goes wrong, and you have just enough control to do it over and over again?”  
Albus had no idea what Gellert was talking about. He never got do-overs in his dreams. He made a noncommittal noise, just so that Gellert would keep talking.  
“Nothing I changed made a difference. I lost you every time. Either you died, or I saved your life, but somehow in a way that made you angry? And then I lost you anyway. You were – you told me to go away. You told me –“

“Gellert. That wasn’t me. I know it felt like me, but it wasn’t me. I’m here.”  
“And you want me to stay?” he could feel Gellert’s tears on his shoulder. Gellert almost never cried. The dream must have felt so real to him that he was still confused about which Albus was the real Albus. How many dreams like this had Albus slept through over the past months?  
“Always. I will always want you to stay. I love you.”

Gellert pulled away. He looked – embarrassed? Ashamed, maybe.  
“I know you do. I’m sorry, Albus. To wake you over something so foolish. It – it wasn’t real. It was just a dream. It was –“  
Albus grabbed Gellert’s hand and squeezed it. “No, it wasn’t real, but it _felt_ real. Dreams feel really real sometimes. And anyway, you didn’t wake me. I was at the desk.”

Gellert looked up. “Why were you – Albus! You’re sick!”  
“Do I look that bad?” Albus asked, smiling weakly. Certainly, he _felt_ that bad, he was realizing. He had spent his last bit of energy rushing to the bed and comforting Gellert.  
“You look perfect.”  
Albus snorted.  
“Ok, maybe not perfect. You look sweaty. And pale. And a bit – greyish?"  
Albus flopped down onto his pillow and started giggling. That sounded like a far cry from perfect.  
"But what I noticed first is that you felt too hot, far too hot. And you are never awake in the night. That alone would be a clue. What is happening?”  
“I don’t know. I woke up, and felt the need to be sick. That hasn’t happened since I was a child. And now my neck is starting to hurt.”

"Your neck?" Gellert’s jaw set. “Wand.”  
Albus held up his hand. The Wand came flying off the desk and bounced off his hand and into Gellert's lap.  
"Ouch," he complained, letting his hand fall back onto the bed. Gellert sighed and picked up the Wand.  
“Lay still, Kätzchen. I’m going to try to find it, the way you did with Gregorovitch’s Dragon Pox.”  
“Sure…” said Albus. His voice seemed to be outside of himself somehow. Or perhaps he was outside of his voice? So. Tired. He drifted in and out with the rhythm of his breathing. Where was Gellert? Was he still here? He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes to see. When had his eyes shut?  
“I’m so sorry, Love. I’ve had this done once, and I know how uncomfortable it is.”  
And then Gellert was shoving a Bezoar down his throat. 

Albus’ eyes opened at once. As soon as he regained his ability to breathe, his dignity, and a small amount of energy, Albus shouted, “Was that really necessary?!”  
Or, he meant for it to be a shout. It was more of a petulant whine.  
Gellert looked more worried than Albus had seen him look in a while. “Yes, Albus. Just - Please lay still a bit longer. I need to see how much good that did. It doesn’t work against everything. There are some more complicated and subtle poisons… I need to see if there was any organ damage, so we know what potions to give you.”

Albus waited – his body was still, but his mind was running quickly. Where had he been poisoned? By whom? Why? And the one that they might be able to answer with certainty…  
“When?”  
“It has been in your system for… a week, maybe?”  
A week… where had they been a week ago? They had seen Davit six days ago…  
“I’m not absolutely certain. It was not yesterday. This kind of poison… it takes time. I’m glad I woke up. Every hour counts at this point.”  
That should sound frightening, but Albus felt like he was watching this all unfold from a distance, as if he were still sitting at the desk watching Gellert tend to other-Albus.

“You know a lot about poisons. Durmstrang?”  
“My father’s library. Zi –“ Gellert took a deep breath. “Zinnie always brought me books on poisons to read when I was recovering. I asked her why once, and she said that it might be important one day to know about things that interest my father. I think – this sort of thing is what she meant. There have been rumours… Anyway. This may be nothing –“  
“I wouldn’t say nothing, Gellert. Someone poisoned me!”  
“What I mean is, this may not have anything to do with my father. But – Otto may be onto something. The bezoar did _almost_ all the work. But there is an element to this poison that is biding its time, hiding as if the bezoar worked completely. That kind of poison is – unusual. And nothing can eradicate the last of it from your system… Oh!”

Gellert leapt off the bed and rushed to his makeshift potions room. He came back with an empty glass globe. He bent over Albus and kissed him gently on the forehead. “Almost done, Liebling.”  
He placed the globe in Albus’ hand.  
Once again he moved the Wand over Albus’ body, but this time, he swirled the tip of the Wand over Albus’ belly for a time, then gradually moved it in a winding path up towards his shoulder, then down his arm, until the glass globe began to fill with a dull pink smoke.  
Albus smiled faintly. “Well done. Learned that from Madam Gregorovitch, did you?”  
“Hush, Albus. I could have figured it out without you having killed someone.”

Gellert ran the Wand over Albus several more times. On the fifth time, Albus grabbed Gellert’s hand. “How many times have you done that and seen nothing?”  
“Five –“  
“All five times? Then I think we can safely say you got it all, Love. Don’t torture yourself so. It’s over. You saved me, and it is all over.”  
“It is not _over_. We do not know exactly who did it, or why.”  
That was true. And disturbing. But neither of them had gotten a full night’s sleep.

“Can we think about that in the morning? I – we have both had a bad night, and I just want…”  
Gellert laid down on his side, facing Albus, and Albus rolled away from him.  
Gellert kissed his back. “You want me to hold you, Liebling?”  
Albus wanted Gellert to hold him and never let him go. He wanted neither of them to ever need worry about the other again. He wanted Gellert to never have another bad dream, and if he did, he wanted him to wake up to the reassurance of Albus in his arms. He wanted to feel safe, and the only thing that felt safe right now was Gellert.  
But all he said was, “Please.”  
Gellert wrapped his arm around Albus and Albus took Gellert’s hand in his and kissed it, before wrapping it around his shoulder.  
He meant to tell Gellert that he loved him, but he was too tired to speak. 

When Albus woke, it was to a scratching sound. Gellert was no longer in bed with him, but on the windowsill, his claws gripping the flaking wood. When he transformed back into his own human form, Albus saw that his knuckles were bloody and his face was grim. How long had he been out flying, and what had he found? What had he done?  
Albus went to him and held him tightly, but asked no questions – not even later, when he was brushing his lips over Gellert’s wounds, leaving new and perfect skin in his wake. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“We need to go to Meteora,” Albus said two days later.  
“You mean that place where nobody has sex?”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “I mean that place where I’m going to have Aberforth do his summer internship, so that we do not have to take him with us everywhere all summer long. Would you rather not have sex for a week? Or not have sex for two months?”

“I don’t see why we have to go at all. I thought you wrote to Brother Grigorios.”  
“To tell him I wanted to see him. When asking for something this significant, it is always better to ask in person. He and I were relatively close, for a professor and a student, but not close enough to simply ask for two months of his time outright.”  
“I see. And it is going to take you a week to build up to asking this question.”  
“Well… I also want to satisfy myself that it is a good place for Aberforth. And there are several monasteries in the area, all with their own unique handwritten manuscripts. And I am curious to learn more about Christianity from someone who actually believes it and knows what they are talking about.”

The oil lamp exploded, setting some papers on the desk on fire. Albus quickly put them out.  
“Gellert…?” he asked cautiously.  
“Fine. Go see those celibates. Spend as long as you like learning about their no sex religion. I am not going with you!”  
“There are plenty of Christians who have sex, Gellert.”  
“Then why not visit them?!”  
“Because they aren’t potions professors!”

“Why are you even interested?”  
“One of the mistakes I made here was not knowing enough about religion. I think I should know. And in any case, it seems like there might be something more. Something – I don’t know – above, or behind everything. I’m doing research. You said yourself that if your visions don’t arise from your magic, then perhaps there are Muggles who have them too. Where do these visions come from? What are they for? Aren’t you – curious?”  
“I am not curious about anything that makes people do something insane like stop having sex.”

“You are being absurd!”  
“ _You_ are being absurd! You could meet with Brother Grigorios for a day, and then come back to ask someone _here_ about Christianity. We could go back to Baghdad and talk about Islam with Berndt and Maryam. There is no need for you to go –“  
“For _us_ to go –“  
“ _I am not going!_ What do you need me for there, anyway?”  
“You are my husband! When don’t I need you, Gellert?”  
“When you are at Meteora.”

“I – Gellert. What is this really about?”  
Gellert didn’t say any more. He got into bed fully clothed. Albus followed him, but Gellert looked at him angrily. “ _Don’t_ touch me.”  
“I’m not going to become a Christian, Gellert. I am wanting to learn about as many religions as I can. But this is a new idea I’m having, and this is my first opportunity to speak with someone about their religion. I can read about potions without becoming a potion.”  
Gellert was silent.  
Albus, probably ill-advisedly, kept speaking. “Potions don’t have sex either.”  
“Shut. Up.” Gellert bit out.

Albus got up, went into the room with the potions equipment, and lay down on the camp bed. He was surrounded by celibate potions. Which might be funny if there were not a door standing between Gellert and himself. He stared at the ceiling. What had that been about?

He hated arguing with Gellert, but usually he at least knew what they were arguing about. He didn’t like being separated from Gellert, either. He pressed Alttayir and waited to be whisked back into bed with Gellert, but the fifteen minutes passed, and Gellert didn’t call him back. He must have felt it. He was ignoring Albus’ call. He was saying no.  
Albus sighed heavily. He would spend the night alone, then. 

In the morning, Gellert appeared in the doorway of the room Albus had slept in, looking uncharacteristically dishevelled and wearing his clothes from the day before. He pulled Albus up and began kissing him desperately.  
Albus pulled back a little. “Is everything ok?”  
Gellert’s face looked sad, weary, and a bit wild. “Please, Albus.”

Albus laid his hand on Gellert’s face. He traced the line of his cheekbone down towards his mouth, then pried Gellert’s lips open with a finger. Gellert sucked the finger in and Albus groaned.  
“I love you, Gellert. So much.”  
Albus replaced his finger with his mouth, and as he kissed Gellert, he walked him towards the bed. He began undressing him by hand, but Gellert disappeared both of their clothes.  
Albus gasped at the shock of the cool early morning air on his skin. He ran his fingers over Gellert’s chest. “I love it when you’re impatient for me.”  
“Do you?” Gellert growled. He spun them around and pushed Albus onto the bed. 

It was in that moment that Albus realized that he and Gellert were at cross-purposes. Albus had been looking for something a bit gentler and reassuring, and Gellert was looking for something desperate and out of control.  
“Gellert – I –“  
His words were cut off by Gellert’s attentions. His earlobe was in Gellert’s mouth, Gellert was rolling one of his nipples in his fingers, his cock was being overwhelmed by Gellert’s oral sex spell… 

Never mind gentle and reassuring. Desperate and out of control described Albus perfectly at the moment. He touched Gellert’s face to get his attention, and when Gellert stopped to look at him, Albus pulled his head down to kiss him. He needed Gellert’s mouth. He was hungry for it. He bit down on Gellert’s lip and licked it. Gellert groaned.  
“You like the taste of my blood, Liebhaber?”  
“Need you. All of you.”

Albus wrapped one hand around Gellert’s cock and began stroking it while he dug the nails of his other hand into Gellert’s shoulder.  
“What do you need, Gellert? Anything. I’ll give you anything.”  
Gellert cast a lubricating spell, grabbed Albus’ hand, and brought it to Gellert’s arse. Albus began circling Gellert’s hole.

“I want to ride you.” Albus moved his hand from Gellert’s shoulder down to his hip, pulling him down so that their cocks could rub against one another.  
“I want your come in my arse.”  
Albus thrust his finger into Gellert’s arse and they both groaned.  
“Say that again.”  
“Fill. My. Arse. With your come, Dumbledore.”  
“Fuck, Gellert!” 

Albus removed his finger, quickly uttered the spell to stretch Gellert, and lifted him so that the tip of Albus’ cock was against Gellert’s hole.  
“Gods!” Gellert cried out.  
“Sorry, Love. I couldn’t wait any longer.”  
“Not sorry, I’m not –“

Albus’ hands were still on Gellert’s hips, and he pushed Gellert down onto his cock.  
“Yes!” they both shouted, and Gellert laughed.  
Albus took one of Gellert’s hands off the bed and brought it towards his face, sucking two of Gellert’s fingers into his mouth. Gellert threw his head back and picked up the pace. 

Neither of them was going to last very long, but Albus couldn’t bring himself to care. They needed this release together, and they needed it urgently.  
“Now, Gellert. Come for me now.”  
Albus pumped him two, three more times, and then Gellert was shouting, and his come was all over Albus’ chest and chin, and the bed, and Albus’ come was filling Gellert, and Gellert was trembling, and Albus wanted to roll them over so that he could kiss Gellert everywhere.

“You are such a mess, Love.” Gellert dragged his finger through the come on Albus’ chest, then brought it to Albus’ mouth. Albus licked Gellert’s finger clean.  
“More?”  
Gellert laughed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to clean you off?”  
“No! Not yet. I like it. It’s warm. It’s yours.”  
“Soon it is going to be cold and sticky –“  
“And then you can clean it off. But until then –“

Gellert bent down and kissed Albus.  
“Don’t go?”  
Albus sighed. Did they have to talk about this in bed? Couldn’t they just enjoy one another’s bodies for five minutes longer?  
“Gellert – I have to go. But I can make it shorter. Three days? Come with me to Meteora for three days.”  
Gellert rolled off of Albus and stared up at the ceiling. He took Albus’ hand in his. “We’ll see.”

Albus cast the spell to clean himself and Gellert, then grabbed the Wand and cast on the ceiling the image of what the stars above would look like right at that moment if it were dark outside.  
“I will miss you if you don’t come, you know.”  
“I will miss _this_ if we go.”  
Was that –  
“I will miss this too. Your body. Touching you, kissing you, making you come. The way you make me feel… But three days is not a long time. And then we will have this again. Every day like always.”

Gellert huffed. He got out of bed and walked to the wardrobe. Albus was in danger of getting hard again, watching Gellert’s naked body walking away from him. There was nothing he would change about Gellert’s body. At all. His legs, his arse, his back, his shoulders… running one into the other in seamless perfection. He was torn between the need to see Gellert in his entirety and the need to be close enough to run his hands and his tongue all over him.  
Yes, Albus would miss Gellert’s body, so much so that he was beginning to feel crazy for considering going without it for any amount of time. But it was important – it would be worth it. And he would not be gone long.


	34. Brother Grigorios

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meteora is a real place in Greece at the foot of the Pindus mountains, where tall towers of rock stand up from a plain. After centuries of hermits living in caves in the sides of these rocks, monks came to build religious communities on the very tops of the rocks, as much as 500 meters in the air. At its height, Meteora was home to 24 monasteries. Today, there are only six. Anyway, you can read more about it yourself.  
> Hagioi Magoi (The Holy Magi) is not a real monastery. The details are largely composited from various other monasteries in Meteora, but Hagioi Magoi is unique in being a monastery entirely populated by Wizards and Squibs. They are hidden from the outside world, but their brother monks know that they are there, know that they are Wizards, and benefit from their magic.  
> There will be more about this later.  
> Many thanks to [vandrerska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandrerska/pseuds/Vandrerska) and her Dad for helping me get some details right re: Orthodox monasteries and Meteora in particular. Of course, any inaccuracies that remain are mine. 
> 
> If you originally read this chapter before 17 January 2020, you may remember the monastery being named St. Luke's - the name has been changed in order to avoid confusion with a famous monastery in Delphi by the name of St. Luke's.

Chapter 31  
June 1900

Brother Grigorios met Albus at a café across the street from the Hagia Triada.  
“Albus! It is good to see you.”  
“You also, Brother Grigorios.”  
“You had said that you were going to have a friend with you – Madame Bagshot’s nephew?”  
“Oh, he – wasn’t able to come after all.”  
“Hmm. Well, we are not in any hurry. We can wait here just in case.”

“Just in case?”  
“It often happens that a person will change their mind at the very last minute, and oh isn’t it such a shame I just missed the train, just missed the portkey, just missed seeing you… and later they realize that there was no need to miss the opportunity if they had come to their senses just a minute sooner. So. Waiting says, I will not let you stand in your own way, this time.”  
“That is not what waiting says this time, because he does not know where we were meeting.”

“When you left, you did not say, ‘If you change your mind, we will be at this or that place?’ You simply – what did you say?”  
Albus had said, ‘Fine, you stubborn Arse. I’ll see you in three days.’ And Gellert had replied, ‘Take two weeks. What difference does it make?’ And Albus had said ‘fine’ and Gellert had said, ‘fine,’ and then Albus had left. Which was… terrifically embarrassing, now that he was reviewing it all in his head, and not at all something he wanted to share with Brother Grigorios.

“He seemed very clear that he didn’t want to come.”  
“But he had wanted to come before?”  
“I wrote to you before telling him that I intended for us to go.”  
“Told him what you intended. So, you did not solicit his opinion on the matter, but simply made a non-negotiable declaration. And when is it that you _told him_ that the two of you were visiting me?”  
“Three days ago.”

“Given that he is not here now, it seems he is not the sort of person that is happy to be told what to do.”  
Albus sighed. “No.”  
Brother Grigorios pushed on Albus’ forehead with two fingers.  
“Where is your brain?”

Albus was quiet.  
“There are many ways of being smart about people. You are one of the cleverest people I have ever met when it comes to getting other people to do what you want them to do. With the one exception being Aberforth. The problem there being that you are too emotional about him to do what you would in any other case know needs to be done.  
“This was a juvenile error, Albus. Very unlike you. This young man might be sitting here with us now if you had given him enough time to work through whatever he needs to work through first. And, of course, if you had given him a say.”

“But there _was_ no say! I _had to_ come to Hagioi Magoi to see you! I couldn’t pretend that he might say something that would make me change my mind!”  
“Oh? And yet I have seen you do such a thing many times. Pretend. Doing one thing with your face while you do another with your hands – like a pickpocket. Have you had some sort of epiphany about your methods? About honesty and allowing others their autonomy? Or is this boy different, for some reason? Would you say that you couldn’t pretend? Or instead that you couldn’t pretend _to him_?”

Albus was remembering that Brother Grigiorios was very annoying. He always knew more than Albus wanted him to, and drew conclusions about Albus that managed to sound both judgmental and affectionate at the same time. The _most_ annoying part of this was that it made Albus wonder if this was what a father was supposed to sound like. He did not like to feel disadvantaged in any way – and the thought, ‘I no longer have a father, and when I did, he didn’t really see me - not like Brother Grigorios sees me,’ skated a bit too closely to self-pity. 

“So! You had to _tell_ this boy, not _ask_ him, because otherwise you would have felt dishonest. Manipulative. And this bothers you for some reason, to be manipulative and dishonest _with him_. But this does not answer why you only told him three days ago.”  
Because Albus was scared out of his mind, and trying to avoid the inevitable argument, which, predictably, had come to pass. He hated arguing with Gellert, and it seemed to Albus that they had been doing a lot of it recently.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.”  
Brother Grigorios looked at Albus for a full minute, waiting for him to elaborate. But Albus had already revealed more than enough. If the worst Brother Grigorios was going to do was stare, Albus could wait him out.

“Would he come, if we went to fetch him?”  
“I thought – don’t we have a portkey? Aren’t we on a schedule?”  
“Not at all. Flying carpet. The view is so interesting! I get out rarely when I’m living at the monastery – I should make the most of it, don’t you think?”

Albus looked down.  
“I cannot help you if you are not honest with me, Albus. Tell me, does this boy – I can’t keep calling him that. What is his name?”  
“Gellert,” said Albus.  
Brother Grigorios smiled. “Does your Gellert have any reason to feel insecure in your relationship?”  
“My…? Our…?“

“Very little changes in a monastery. The seasons change, of course, and the readings change with the seasons, but there is a routine. For a mind that needs a challenge… the best available puzzle is the humans living with you. Before coming to Hogwarts, I spent 40 years noticing other people. Someone like yourself, who exposes only what is expedient – you were the most interesting puzzle. One thing I learned about you is where your interests lie. It was very entertaining, watching you and Black dance around one another.”

“Phineas?”  
“Ah – see! You know which Black I mean right away. Yes, Phineas. You could not bear to look at him for very long, and he was frustrated by you not looking.”  
“That – doesn’t mean – “

Brother Grigorios waited. Albus’ curiosity got the better of him.  
“Phineas – was attracted to me?”  
Brother Grigorios laughed. “Attracted? He was practically begging for your attention. The number of times you accidentally rebuffed him would have been comical if he had not seemed so hurt and confused by it.”  
Well. It seemed that Gellert was right. Albus had to be pinned to a bookcase and snogged soundly before being capable of believing that someone was attracted to him. 

Phineas was Headmaster Black’s son. He had been a year ahead of Albus. Slytherin quidditch captain, attractive, smart, sweetly shy in spite of his popularity. But Albus was not sorry never to have dated him. He was happy to have only ever been with Gellert, to not have any other memories intruding on their time together.  
That said, it did help his confidence to know that _Phineas_ had wanted _him_. 

“Poor Phineas. That must have been awful for him. You are not the only person to have told me that I can be oblivious about this sort of thing.”  
“Phineas was many admirable things, but he was not your equal. It would not have been a good match. Is Gellert – is yours a relationship of equals?”  
Albus almost answered, but stopped. He couldn’t be having this conversation.

“I thought Christians thought that men being with other men was wrong.”  
“Being with. I am _with_ men every day. You mean two men having sex with one another.”  
Albus was stunned into silence.  
“Albus – I made my choice – I am at peace with it. But that does not mean that I do not know anything of the world. I did not choose a monastic life because I am disgusted by sex. On the contrary, I was married for five years. It was only after she died that I took vows.”

Five years. He and Gellert had been together not quite one, and he could not begin to imagine…  
“I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.”  
“It was many years ago. But after her, I felt that I would never want anyone else, so it was not such a great sacrifice, celibacy. I wonder if you understand what I mean.”  
Albus was not sure that he did – in that he was not willing to think about it long enough to properly imagine never having sex with Gellert again. Never again falling asleep holding his naked body.

“A lot of people think that two men having sex is wrong, Albus, as you well know. Not just Christians.  
“Many of my brothers disagree with me, but I feel that such ideas don’t get a monk very far. Thoughts, feelings – it is best to accept them for what they are. When feelings are denied, they break out in a time and in a way we cannot choose. When acknowledged, we can choose how – or whether – we will act on them. You, Albus, only have two choices available to you: celibacy or a relationship with another man.”

“And you don’t – mind –“  
“I can’t say that I approve of sexual relationships without a commitment, without accountability, but I would be far more disappointed in you choosing a sexual relationship with a woman – that would be unfair to both of you, given your lack of interest.”

“You asked if Gellert was my equal. I don’t know - no two people are equal, are they? But I think better with him. Our minds are – they work a little differently, but they are compatible, equally fast, equally curious. Our bodies are not - he is better looking than I am…”  
Brother Grigorios raised a skeptical eyebrow.  
“Well, he collects many more admirers than I do.”  
“I thought we had just established that you are utterly blind to the existence of admirers, so I don’t know how we could expect you to accurately assess that.”  
“He knows more about ritual magic than I do…”  
“Are there things you know more about than he does?”  
“Yes – several. But he has these ideas…”

Brother Grigorios laughed, “You admire him. I am satisfied. Now, the important question – does _he_ think it is a relationship between equals?”  
“He doesn’t think he is smarter than me, if that’s what you mean.”  
“Does he think that you are smarter than him? More powerful? That you need him less than he needs you? Does he worry that you are going to realize how wonderful you are and leave him?”  
“I don’t think that’s… Maybe? No. He's - we are better together than either one of us is apart. I think we both know that.”

“Very good. And yet you are apart now, no? So why, then, is he not here with us? Is it because you _told him_ he must come? Or is there perhaps something else bothering him? Is he - opposed to Christianity? Many European Wizards still are. Does he not like that you are friends with a monk?"  
Albus flinched, but quickly recovered. "He's a bit obsessed with Christian art, actually. Though he finds crucifixions - somehow attractive and repellant at the same time? He's been trying to figure it out."  
"Ah. Well. I wish I had known - I would have suggested that you lure him with our frescoes. So the problem is not Christianity. And yet you had a reaction to me saying that he does not like you being friends with a monk. Perhaps it is the celibacy that is bothering him?”

“He has been quite irrational about it!” Albus burst out, much more forcefully than he had meant to.  
Brother Grigorios smiled patiently, as Albus had so often seen him do in the classroom when waiting on a student's answer.  
“Does he think perhaps that you do not need sex with him the way he needs sex with you? That you could live without it? That you could be persuaded to live without it? Does he perhaps see you as more disciplined, more controlled than he is?”

Albus wanted to say no, but thinking back, there had been many times when he had teased Gellert about how much he needed sex, or about how out of control he could become during sex… And he could not remember Gellert ever having teased him about that. It would be easy to be left with the impression that Albus thought himself superior to Gellert, on the basis of Gellert’s sex drive being greater. But in reality, Albus was sure that Gellert’s desire for him was not any greater than his desire for Gellert.

But he did not want to talk about this with Brother Grigorios, so he returned to an earlier point in the conversation.  
“We do have a commitment, Brother Grigorios.”  
“And have you also found accountability? With a relationship of a kind that is so despised among Wizards and Muggles alike, who knows of your commitment?”  
Albus was silent for a moment, trying to decide how much to say. So far, nobody knew the truth of their relationship but Gellert and himself. Simply volunteering that they had a commitment was more than anyone else knew. He trusted Brother Grigorios, and as much as he hated to admit it, his approval was important to Albus… But it seemed that Gellert should be included in this decision.

Brother Grigorios steepled his hands, and began tapping his fingertips together.  
“Hmm. Such a long silence. You do not know what you want to tell me. You are accountable to no person, until now, and yet you are accountable to something… magic, is it?”  
Albus opened his mouth in surprise, but could not make his voice work to answer. Why had he ever thought it was a good idea to reconnect with Brother Grigorios? He reflected people more clearly than a mirror. 

“I am surprised at you, Albus. You were always so cautious. To magically bind yourself at such a young age… Nevertheless, it is done. And you were correct to tell me – certainly it reassures me that you are not casually sharing your body with someone as if it were not a singular gift.”  
‘Correct to tell him…’ Albus shook his head. His silence had indeed been telling. He was usually more on guard, had more of a plan. But Brother Grigorios was… disarming somehow.

“Given that you are… married… I can make certain arrangements for the two of you. I can do it in such a way that my brothers don’t need to know the details.”  
“I had thought that it would be disrespectful. I don’t want to –“  
“It would indeed be disrespectful on the grounds of the monastery itself. There will be no snogging in the apothecary, or holding hands in the courtyard, and so on. Particularly no ‘and so on.’  
“But Hagioi Magoi is built on top of a towering rock, and there are caves in the rock, far enough below the monastery that I, for one, do not consider them part of the monastery itself. I have one in mind that has not yet been used as a hermitage, large enough for two to spend the night together. You could be… married at night, and keep more of a respectful distance from one another when up amongst the brothers.”  
Oh. This could make a great deal of difference.

“I have no doubt that your marriage would mend if you were to go without him, but why make a scar when it is not necessary?”  
“Perhaps we should go see him.”  
“No, Albus. Perhaps _you_ should go see him. I will wait.”  
Albus nodded.  
“Thank you, Brother Grigorios.”

“Yes, of course. It was nothing. If the two of you choose not to come back to the monastery with me, at least return to tell me so.”  
“Yes, I will. Thank you.”  
Brother Grigorios waved him off, and Albus pictured the hall outside the door to their rooms before disapparating away.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in. He opened his eyes and looked carefully at the door. Gellert had added no additional wards. Albus didn’t know if that was a good sign or not. Perhaps it meant that Gellert expected him not to come back.  
He rapped on the door. No answer.  
Albus opened the door. “Gellert?”

Gellert was lying in bed – the room was utterly wasted. Only Gellert’s clothes were untouched. Albus had to suppress a smile, that even in a rage Gellert was protective of his clothing.  
“Love?”  
Gellert didn’t answer, but Albus could tell by his magical energy that he wasn’t sleeping. 

Albus walked to the bed. Gellert had somehow managed to take up so much space that there was no room for Albus at all.  
Albus gave him a little push in the side. “Budge over.”  
“No.”  
“Don’t be an Arse. I came back for you. I – I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you sooner about wanting to go see Brother Grigorios. That was wrong. I should have given us more time to discuss it.”

Gellert moved over, and Albus lay down next to him.  
“What is this really about Gellert?”  
“I do not want to spend time with an entire community full of deranged and judgmental men.”  
“Meaning Christian men? Or celibate men?”  
Gellert made a non-commital noise.

“I certainly don’t understand celibacy. It seems pointless and insanely difficult.”  
Gellert turned on his side and looked at Albus.  
“What?”  
“I couldn’t do it, and I don’t understand why Brother Grigorios does it. I mean, it’s his business. I’m not going to sleep with him, so why should I care what he does? But – yes. It’s weird.”

“But you –“  
“Well, I mean, just because I don’t understand something, that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make sense to the person who is doing it. So, I can’t agree with calling it deranged. Because Brother Grigorios is very intelligent and has a well-balanced mind, as far as I can tell. But you don’t personally know anyone who is celibate by choice, so – I can see why you might think it is ridiculous.”

“You laughed at me.”  
“I know. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t tease you about sex so much. As if I don’t want you just as much as you want me. It has become a habit I think, to paint you as somehow more sexual than me. You were just so much more assertive in the beginning. It was – intimidating. I felt embarrassed that I was so much more – restrained? And so I joked about it in order to hide my embarrassment, my worries that I wasn’t enough for you.  
“But over time… I don’t think you initiate any more than I do now. Certainly, it would not be possible for you to want me more than I want you. I never wanted to make you self-conscious about things that I love about you – like how enthusiastic and attentive you are in bed, and how you can’t wait long enough to get home, sometimes. Sometimes I can’t, either.”

“You thought – you thought you weren’t enough for me?”  
“I thought you’d probably prefer someone who was more free, more aggressive and playful – more like you.”  
“Albus –“  
“I love you. I don’t want to go anywhere without you if I don’t have to. But I do have to go to Meteora. Please – come with me?”

Gellert rolled back onto his back and closed his eyes. “I have some unfinished business here.”  
Albus climbed on top of Gellert.  
“’Unfinished business.’ We both know who tried to poison me, Gellert. It was your father. There are only two things we don’t know: who he got to do the job this time, and whether I was the intended target or you were. There is no need –“  
“There is a need! We only know that it was _probably_ my father. It is still possible that it was someone with another motive. Either way, anyone who would try to kill you – We’re planning to come back to Constantinople one day. I don’t want this person still out there when we return.“

“You are the one who told me ‘no revenge killing.’ Right?”  
“I’m not going to _kill_ anyone. Just – get some information out of them in the slowest possible way.”  
“Yes, well. I get the feeling you have _gotten information_ out of a few people now, and you are no closer to the truth. Let it go. Please?”

Gellert pulled Albus down and kissed him.  
“I love you, Albus. And I almost lost you. You would have died if I hadn’t had that dream, if you hadn’t woken me up.”  
“I’m here. I’m right here.”  
Gellert rolled Albus over. Albus looked up at him – he looked so fierce, so intense, so gorgeous.  
“Gods, I love you. You are extraordinary.”

Gellert bent down and gently pressed his lips against Albus’ – once, twice. Then he kissed his nose.  
“You really want me to go with you?”  
“I do. Of course, I do. I want you with me everywhere. In any case, I don’t think that Brother Grigorios will take me without you. He has some… strong opinions.”

“Well, I suppose I have to go then,” he said. “I think I had better change for the journey.”  
He vanished all of his clothes.  
“Hmm. Something about this isn’t quite right.”  
He vanished Albus’ clothes.  
“There we are. That is much better.”  
Gellert kissed Albus deeply, rocking against him.  
He moved to suck on Albus’ neck.

“Gellert!” Albus gasped. “We need to – ungh! – pack! Your things!”  
“Later,” Gellert answered, lifting up his head for a moment before licking Albus’ nipple, then sucking on it.  
“Gah! Now!”  
“Now? You know what I would like to do now?”

Gellert sucked on Albus’ belly for a moment, which made Albus squirm, then he swallowed Albus’ cock completely.  
“Gellert!”  
Gellert hummed happily. Albus reached down and pulled Gellert’s hair back from the sides of his face. This was not why he had come back, but –  
“Fuck! Yes!”

Gellert was so good at this. His tongue, his lips, gods, his mouth so perfect –  
Every word left him – he was all sensation – heat, friction, suction, wet wet wet, so soft –  
He looked down to watch Gellert, to watch his cock disappear into Gellert’s mouth.  
Albus groaned, and Gellert looked up and met Albus’ eyes, just long enough to receive a few of Gellert's feelings:  
Gellert’s love for him,  
Gellert’s arousal at the taste of Albus’ pre-come and the feeling of Albus’ cock dragging across his lips,  
Gellert’s gratitude for Albus’ return,  
Gellert’s pleasure when he made Albus writhe and tear at the sheets and moan.

Albus threw his head back, breaking eye contact. Too… intense…  
“Gellert - !“ Albus called out in the rising tone that indicated he was close. His hips started to rise off the bed, but Gellert was pinning him down. That feeling of being restrained sent him over the edge with a shout.

Gellert sat back on his heels and looked down at Albus. He looked incredibly pleased with himself. Albus smiled.  
“You are amazing, Love. Come here.”

Gellert lay down beside Albus and took his hand. Albus rolled over half on top of Gellert and bit his shoulder.  
“I love you.”  
“I love you, too. We should probably start packing, though. Don’t want to keep the monk waiting.”  
“He’ll be ok,” Albus replied, running his finger down Gellert’s chest. “I want to take care of you before we go.”  
“Right. No sex for however long.”

“Actually… that is not a problem any longer.”  
“How –“  
“Brother Grigorios puzzled out that we are married, and that sort of thing is important to him, which is also why he wouldn’t let me leave without you. Anyway. He has a place we can sleep that is not on the monastery grounds, but nearby. So that we can be ‘married at night’ as he says.”  
“I am not sure whether I am glad or terrified.”  
“Of what? Of Brother Grigorios? I agree that he is annoyingly insightful.”

“Did he tell you to apologize to me?”  
“No. He just – made me feel a bit stupid. He pushed on my forehead and asked me if I still had a brain and why wasn’t I using it.”  
Gellert laughed. “I’m sorry, Liebling. I shouldn’t – ahem. That sounds – unpleasant.”  
“No. It was ok. It was good actually. After all, I wouldn't have been here for you to go down on me if he had not been such a busybody, so –“

“Do you think –“ Gellert reached down to grab Albus’ cock and stroke it – “Oh yes. It looks like we could easily get you ready to go again.”  
“Gellert?”  
“I want you inside of me. Then we can go see your monk.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

When Albus arrived with Gellert ninety minutes after he had left, Brother Grigorios didn’t say a word about the wait. He simply introduced himself to Gellert, snapped his fingers for the flying carpet, and gestured for the boys to climb on. 

As they rose into the sky, Brother Grigorios looked back at them. They were sitting a careful distance from one another.  
“We are not yet at Hagioi Magoi. You can hold hands here. Or sit more closely. I will trust that, after your reunion, you will be able to wait for anything further until you are alone again.”  
Gellert looked at Brother Grigorios in alarm, while Albus looked on in amusement.  
“I was young once too,” he said simply.

Brother Grigorios turned back to face forward as the carpet leveled off.  
“Enjoy the view. A flying carpet is my favourite way to travel.”  
Albus and Gellert lay side by side on their bellies, peering over the edge. They were low enough to see dolphins leaping out of the water. Gellert took Albus’ hand and kissed it. Albus turned to him. “I’m glad you came.”  
“Me too, Love.”

Flying into Meteora, it was difficult to believe that such a place had been settled by Muggles. The buildings perched on the towers of stone seemed as if they must have been conjured in place.  
After giving Gellert and Albus plenty of time to admire the area from the air, Brother Grigorios gently set them down in a clearing at the base of one of the rocks. 

“Aren't we going up there?” Albus asked, pointing to a collection of buildings more than 500 feet above them.  
“Oh, we are,” answered Brother Grigorios. “But we take no magical conveyances in and out of the monastery. We ascend as our Muggle brothers do – up the ladder. We have accepted it as a discipline, a meditation on moving from Chronos into Kairos – from the time of daily work and life here below into God’s time, the time marked by prayer.”

Gellert looked at Albus and smirked.  
‘It is a good thing we have so much sex. I don’t think most Wizards would have the stamina for such a climb!’  
Albus snorted, then spoke to cover their silent conversation.  
“When you first said 'discipline,' I thought you meant punishment! That is a long climb.”  
“We are fortunate that this hill runs up to the rock. Other monasteries are not so high as ours, but they have a longer climb. But you are right – this is long enough. We should begin now, so that we make it in time for supper. We will catch our breath at your lodgings – that will be a little more than halfway up.”

Albus and Gellert shrunk their luggage and put it in their pockets.  
“You should go first,” Brother Grigorios suggested. “I am used to this ladder – It would be better for you to set the pace.”  
Gellert looked at the 70 year old Wizard, and then at Albus.  
‘Is he serious?’  
‘Always.’  
‘He can’t think he would be faster than us?’  
‘Whether he would be or not, it would be rude for us to contradict him. Go on.’  
“Very well,” Gellert said, grasping onto a rung, and he began to climb.

Albus was relieved when they finally reached the cave. His arms were aching. And his legs…  
“Does faith in God entail sturdy legs?” Albus asked, smiling, and Brother Grigorios laughed.  
“I have often had the same thought. Lucky for us, we are Wizards, there are potions at the top to restore our energy.”  
“Isn’t that cheating?”

Brother Grigorios didn’t even stop to think about it.  
“Not at all. If anything, God might be disappointed in us if we have a gift and do not use it. Speaking of which. Please do what you need to make this cave comfortable. I do understand that you are not ascetics. There is already an illusion here to hide the cave – to make it appear as if there were only solid rock here – I lifted it selectively for the two of you. I will insist that you put up a silencing charm. Sound carries in the most appalling way up here.”

Gellert paled, much to Albus’ amusement. For once, Gellert was the one who was feeling uncomfortable with someone talking about them having sex, and Albus was enjoying the reversal. Albus cast their silencing charms, then they left their things in the cave and continued their climb. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The next day, after breakfast, Brother Grigorios spoke to them about the schedule for the day. 

“After breakfast, we have about an hour to organize our day before the third hour prayer. We pray seven times a day, but the only time I will expect you is at these morning prayers.  
“Midnight prayer is reserved for monks only, but it would be impractical for you attend several of the other times of prayer, given how dangerous it is to ascend and descend the ladder in the dark. You may of course attend the third- and sixth-hour prayers – just before lunch and in the mid-afternoon, but it would be a great blessing to us all if you would instead sit with Brother Basilius. He is at the end of his life, and he does not like to be alone.”

Gellert looked at Albus. “I will sit with Brother Basilius. I imagine Albus would like to go to as much prayer as possible. For research.”  
Brother Grigorios laughed. “Yes, research. This sounds like Albus. That is very generous of you, Gellert.  
“At other times… We ask our guests to contribute labour in exchange for their room and board. Albus, I believe you said that you had a translation spell? Gellert, we would like for you to work with Brother Iosif, our librarian. You can make initial translations into German of a text, and he can make corrections, to make sure it maintains theological accuracy. Then – how is your handwriting? Perhaps you could write a clean copy?”

“His handwriting is beautiful.”  
Brother Grigorios laughed. “We shall see shortly just how biased you are, Albus.”  
Albus blushed and looked at his feet.

“Albus, you may work with me in the garden. I would have liked to have put one of you to work in the apothecary, but Brother Iosif was insistent upon his work taking precedence, and the garden will not wait.”  
This was the perfect opening.  
“Perhaps my brother Aberforth could help you in apothecary this summer.”  
“He will have just completed his fifth year?”  
“Yes, he turned 16 in the Spring. He has developed a strong interest in healing potions, but is disappointed in this year’s professor. He was hoping to come to Meteora and study with you.”

Brother Grigorios raised an eyebrow.  
“And now the true reason for your visit is revealed.”  
“It did seem best to be up front about it.”  
Brother Grigorios smiled. “Only relatively up front, given that you said nothing until you had arrived here.”  
They both knew that was intentional.

“But you did not need several days here in order to ask me about Aberforth.”  
“That is what I said,” Gellert contributed.  
“Well, I wanted to see Hagioi Magoi myself, to reassure myself that it is a good fit for him. I’m his guardian now, and –“  
“Albus. When did your mother die?”  
“Last summer.”  
“I am so sorry. You are too young for so much to be asked of you. And after such a loss.”  
Albus didn’t really have anything to say to this.

“And I want to know more about Christianity. I know very little, really, and – it simply makes sense to me that there is something – more. I respect you, and I want to know what your understanding of something more is.”  
Brother Grigorios looked at Albus a long time.  
“Ah. This is why Gellert thought you would be interested in attending prayer. You are still more generous than I thought, young man. Albus, you are not staying very long. Even a month is not long enough for such questions. But you know this. You are just curious for now? Yes. We can speak about this while we garden. And I would be happy to take Aberforth off your hands for the summer.”

“Brother Grigorios! That is not –“  
“Yes, it is – and rightly so. The two of you never did – blend very well. It would be far better for both of you for him to be here. And I do miss teaching. I simply missed the monastery more. Now I can have both. And our apothecary... we supply all of the monasteries here with medicines, it is a lot of work for one old Wizard. I would be glad to have help. So, now we are all happier, you and me and Aberforth. Gellert, too, probably."  
Gellert snorted, and Albus shot him a quelling look.  
“You never did say how long you are here?”  
“I pick up Aberforth at Hogwarts in ten days. And before then we have two places to stop for at least a day each.”

“Are we stopping back in Constantinople?” Gellert asked.  
“Are we?” Albus countered.  
Gellert sighed. “I wish we had more time before picking up Aberforth.”  
“Me too, but we don’t.”

Brother Grigorios intervened. “I think that perhaps you boys need to discuss this tonight. In any case, you are not leaving tomorrow, yes?”  
Albus nodded. “The soonest we would leave would be the day after tomorrow.”  
“So, tell me tomorrow. I will show the two of you the garden and the scriptorium, and then we can go to prayer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In our continued studies of the history of smutty language:  
> The earliest attestation of 'go down on' is 1895.  
> However, the earliest attestation of 'blow' to mean to perform oral sex is 1933, and the earliest attestation of 'blow job' is 1961, so...  
> Whatever exceptions I may be making for men's underwear, LOL, I am still trying to be accurate regarding language. Gellert will continue to go down on Albus, but he won't be giving him any blow jobs.


	35. Return to Godric's Hollow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in the midst of some medication – umm – difficulties. So updates might be a bit irregular until we get this straightened out. Already this is later than usual (it is rare for me to go more than 6 days), and this chapter entailed minimal writing – largely I was rearranging and editing pre-written material.  
> Rest assured that I am missing writing even more than you might be missing reading!! I will get back to this absolutely as soon as possible.
> 
> Now onto content notes:  
> You may have noticed… Ariana is not an Obscurial in this fic. I know that’s a popular fan theory, and I’ve explored that in a fic or two or three. I go back and forth on it. But when I started this fic, I was at a point where I was feeling pretty strongly against the idea of her being an Obscurial, for several reasons – anyway, not important. Instead I fleshed out some of my HCs that had grown out of the more general ‘her magic was out of control’ narrative from Deathly Hallows ( _the book_ ) back before any of us had heard of an Obscurus.

Chapter 32  
June 1900 (continued)

Albus stepped out of the floo… and straight into Gellert.  
“You Arse! You’re supposed to step out of the way!”  
“See how inconvenient the floo is? We should have apparated in instead, as I suggested.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “What you _suggested_ was apparating into your room and sneaking up on your aunt.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Bathilda asked, her voice just on the edge of laughter.  
“Ah – we didn’t see you come in, Auntie. It is always a pleasure to see you!”  
Bathilda swatted Gellert. “Rogue,” she accused with a smile.  
Too short to look over his shoulder, she peered around Gellert. “Good to see you, Albus. What little of you isn’t hidden behind my nephew.”  
She turned around and walked towards the door.  
“Gellert, let that boy into the parlour! I’ll go get some scones and tea.”

When she returned, they were arranged as they had been the last time they had been in the parlour, holding hands, Gellert’s legs propped up over Albus’. Bathilda poured the tea and sat down in her usual chair.  
“Well, boys? Tell me everything!”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

They closed the door to Gellert’s room behind them. After about an hour of conversation, Bathilda had invited them with a wink to ‘settle in’ and added that she had marked the perimeter with runes, so they needn’t worry about silencing charms - it was taken care of permanently. Gellert had indignantly replied that they knew how to use silencing charms, to which Bathilda answered, ‘you didn’t before you left,’ at which point Albus herded Gellert up the stairs before things could escalate.

“I can’t believe you just pulled me away midsentence like that!” Gellert complained.  
“Alas, the spark is gone already!” Albus said, dramatically falling backwards onto the bed. “His passion is no longer kindled when I drag him up the stairs. No, now he spurns me! From afar I spy him standing, his face turned from me in anger. Was it so long ago when he would have drawn near and torn away my clothing? Are the days now past when he would…”

Gellert started laughing.  
“When I would what?”  
Albus sat up. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought you’d let me get so far in my monologue – I am relieved that you interrupted me at that point, to be honest.”

Smiling broadly, Gellert pulled Albus up to standing.  
“I love you.”  
Still holding Albus’ hand, he led him almost to the desk.  
“Right here. We were standing right here when you first…”  
Albus waited, then Gellert broke out in a wicked grin.  
“When you first called me a silly garden gnome.”

“Gellert!” Albus let go of Gellert’s hand and pushed him away.  
Gellert grabbed his hips and pulled him back against him.  
“You wanted me to say something different, Kätzchen?”  
“This,” said Albus impatiently, “is where we were standing when I first told you I love you.”

“Oh yes, of course,” said Gellert, his lip twitching.  
Albus laughed, “You Arse!”  
“You love my Arse.”  
And that made Albus laugh too, because they had been at the desk when they had had that exchange for the first time as well.

Albus looked up at Gellert and his breath caught. So much had happened since then, and still, still Gellert made him feel lightheaded.  
“You changed my life. I’m sorry for all that happened to you, but – is it selfish that I’m glad too? Because if you hadn’t come to live with Bathilda –“

Gellert interrupted Albus with a light kiss, and then another, and then a third that rapidly escalated from gentle to hungry to cannot think of anything but your lips and your tongue and your hands on my arse pulling me so close to you that we might melt into one person.

Gellert moved his hands to Albus’ hips and then up to his waist, and began to lift Albus onto the desk, but Albus grabbed Gellert’s wrists and broke the kiss to gasp, “No – in you – please –“ 

He vanished Gellert’s trousers and knelt in front of him.  
“You have – the most perfect cock –“  
Gellert laughed. “You haven’t seen anyone else’s cock.”  
Honestly. He had attended a boarding school. He may not have been in any other relationships, but he had seen more than enough cocks. Perhaps not so many other erect cocks, and none so close up...  
But this was not the direction Albus wanted this conversation to take, so it was better not to argue the point.

“I don’t need to see any others to know that your body is perfect, worthy of worship, and that is what I am going to do," he said, running his hands up Gellert's thighs, and then around to his arse, pulling him still closer. "I want to worship you with my mouth, with my hands, with every part of me, every day.”

Albus licked Gellert's cock, and began trailing his fingers alongside his balls and slowly back, until he was circling the pucker of Gellert’s hole lightly with his fingertip. Albus took Gellert into his mouth. He was already leaking pre-come. Albus hummed happily at the taste of it, and Gellert groaned at the vibration. Albus ran his fingernails down Gellert’s inner thigh, and he bucked into Albus’ mouth.

“Sorry –“  
Albus removed his mouth for a moment. “No – I’m glad – I’m glad I’m the one that makes you lose control.”  
“The only one.”  
“Better be – I’d hate for you to bleed to death. I’d miss you terribly.”  
Gellert laughed. 

“Is this your idea of getting me ready for you?”  
Albus cast the lubrication spell on Gellert’s arse and his fingers.  
“No, this is.” He pressed one finger in, and Gellert moaned.  
“Yessss – Albus – “

Albus returned his mouth to Gellert’s cock and worshipped it as promised, while continuing to work Gellert open. Gellert began to become noisier, and Albus turned his attention to Gellert’s prostate.  
“Albus – wait – I’m going to come, and –“  
“Good,” Albus replied, the word a bit garbled, as he didn’t bother to remove his mouth all the way from Gellert’s cock to say it.  
“Ahhhhh! Albus!!!” 

Gellert’s come filled Albus’ mouth, and he swallowed it down, then smiled up at Gellert.  
Gellert sank to his knees on the floor.  
“I thought you needed to be in me?”  
“I do. And I’d say you are perfectly ready for me now, relaxed all over.”  
“Ah – is this that famous Slytherin cunning?”  
“This,” Albus said, interrupting himself to kiss Gellert thoroughly. “This is me taking care of my husband.”

He gently lowered Gellert onto his back, vanished his shirt, and kissed him again. Then he sank back onto his heels and ran his eyes over Gellert’s body. “Beautiful,” he whispered.  
Gellert propped himself up on his elbows and tilted his head, considering Albus. “Your clothes do look good on you, now that I am dressing you…”  
Albus’ eyes widened, then he laughed and pushed on Gellert’s shoulder, causing him to fall back down flat again. Gellert laughed too.  
“ _But_ – I was going to say – _but_ I very much prefer you without anything on at all.”

Albus’ clothes disappeared as Gellert said those words, and Albus blushed as Gellert appraised him intently.  
“You, Love, are perfect. Absolutely perfect. And later I will kiss you all over – do a proper inventory of every blessed part of you. But right now, I am spent and good for only one thing.”  
“Being fucked within an inch of your life?” Albus asked hopefully.  
Gellert smiled up at him. “Yes, Liebhaber.”

Albus grabbed Gellert’s legs and dragged him closer, until he was close enough for Albus to lift his legs up against his chest. Albus bent forward a bit to position himself, and as he pressed against Gellert’s entrance, he asked, “Ready, Love?”  
“Gods, yes. Please –“

Albus slowly entered Gellert, and once he was fully seated, set a languorous pace. There was no feeling like this in all the world, and he wanted to savour it for a minute or two before his patience inevitably failed. It would not be long, he knew, before he would start building up speed, finally losing control and pounding Gellert into the floor as they both screamed their way to orgasm.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

In the end, Gellert and Albus had only spent four days in Meteora and one day in Paris, leaving five days for Godric’s Hollow. They had agreed that they wanted to spend some time with Bathilda, who had complained about her “too empty, too quiet house” in her every letter to Albus. But now that they were here, they discovered that they were spending even more time reminiscing – this is where we first kissed, this is where I first made you come, this is where we watched the sunrise together, this is where we first duelled each other, this is where you first went down on me, and so on. 

On the afternoon of the third day, they went to the clearing where they had spent so many evenings duelling – and where they had celebrated Gellert’s birthday.  
“I cannot believe we never had sex here, Albus. You were so strict with me in the beginning!”  
“I was afraid that if I gave into you, you’d push the limits further, and I didn’t know where it might end!”

“Honestly! What did you think might happen?” Gellert asked, rolling his eyes and smiling. “I never would have done anything that might get us caught.”  
“But I didn’t _know_ that,” Albus answered, his volume rising. “It seemed like – you seemed so reckless.”

“Reckless?!”  
“You started to unfasten my trousers –“  
“In an empty forest, Albus! You let me fuck you in an alley in Paris, and you were worried about me taking you in my hand in the clearing?”  
“Paris was later!”  
“How does that make a difference?!”

“I –“  
‘By then, I knew I could trust you’ seemed like the wrong thing to say in the moment. Albus stopped to think. Gellert was looking at him, breathing heavily from the shouting, but thankfully waiting for him to gather himself. What was the right true thing to say? Perhaps a truer thing?  
He needed to start over, to calm down, to not shout. He needed to remember that Gellert had just been being playful with his first accusation about Albus being strict. He didn’t know that Albus would be sensitive about it. How could he have? Albus hadn’t known. In fact, why was he feeling sensitive about this…?

“When I was with you, I felt like I was losing control… and that was – I was never out of control, never. It felt – dangerous. The rules made me feel like I was still in control, no matter what else I was feeling with you. In Paris I started experimenting with breaking rules, but it wasn’t until just before we left for Turin that I stopped needing rules.”

Gellert stepped closer to Albus, “And why did you stop needing rules?”  
“I learned that I liked being out of control when I was alone with you.” And that it didn’t keep him from still being in control everywhere else.

Gellert took another step forward. He was close now, so close Albus couldn’t bring Gellert's face into focus.  
Gellert tilted his head just a bit and asked, “May I?”  
“Please,” Albus whispered, and Gellert laid his hand on Albus’ face and kissed him.  
“I want you always to feel safe with me.”  
“I do,” Albus answered. 

Gellert pulled back a bit. “I’m sorry for shouting, I thought –“  
“If you thought I was blaming you, you’re right, I was.”  
Gellert just looked from Albus’ face to his unblemished hand and back.  
“I wanted to believe that it was about you. You weren’t being reckless, Love. I know that now, but – in the beginning it felt dangerous to me, foreign that you were willing to let your – your desire for me take over. It’s not your fault, but – I wasn’t ready. For sex in a clearing.”

“And how about now, Liebhaber?”  
Albus advanced on Gellert and backed him into a nearby tree.  
“Oh yes,” he said, taking one of Gellert’s hands and placing it on his clothed erection. “Yes, I’d say I am definitely ready.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Gentlemen,” Bathilda said as they were finishing supper that evening, “You are going to London tomorrow.”  
Gellert and Albus both looked up suddenly – Gellert looked interested, but Albus was wary. Bathilda clearly had an agenda, and he had a feeling that he knew what it was.

“What do you need us to do in London tomorrow, Bathilda? Weren’t you already planning to go yourself?”  
“Indeed. Monday is the day that I visit your sister at St Mungo’s every week.”  
“Thursdays and Mondays.”  
“Correct. But tomorrow, you and Gellert are going in my stead.”

“I’m afraid that Gellert and I already have plans to go to Cambridge tomorrow.”  
They didn’t.  
“Do you know what Ariana asks when I visit her? She asks about you. She says she misses you. And she knows that you are in town.” 

If she knew that he was in town, it could only be because Bathilda had told her. Albus was beginning to reassess just how trustworthy Bathilda really was.  
“I understand. But I was already planning to go with Aberforth in a few days, and Gellert is a stranger to her. It doesn’t seem - “  
“She has taken to asking to meet Gellert. Talking about you entailed telling her you were travelling with my nephew. And given that you have now been ten months in his company, she is naturally curious. And I believe that you would not want to take Aberforth and Gellert on the same day?”

Bathilda was right about that last part, but that was not enough to convince him. It had been such a habit never to let anyone see Ariana. And he hadn’t seen her in so long… what would Gellert think of her? What would she think of Gellert? What might she _do_ to Gellert? _She had killed Mother_.  
He tried to calm himself. The hospital would have isolated her if she were truly dangerous. He did not need to be afraid that he would be endangering Gellert by taking him along. And the whole experience might be more tolerable if Gellert were with him. He would be able to talk about it with Gellert afterwards, and Gellert would have his own observations, which always helped Albus clarify his own thoughts. He couldn’t do that with Aberforth.

Most of all, Gellert loved him. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t think less of Albus.  
This was a new and unfamiliar thought – but the more Albus considered it, the more he became convinced it was true. He didn't have to hide Ariana - not from Gellert. He could trust Gellert not to judge him.

“Very well.”  
“’Very well,’ he says.” Bathilda grumbled. “Now see here, young man. She is not who you think she is. Somehow, around July of last year, she changed. Perhaps the treatment made a difference, or the changed environment? I don’t know.”  
Perhaps a blood ritual…

“She reminds me very much of you – curious, savvy. She is a different person when Aberforth is there with me than when I am with her alone. As if she is tailoring herself for different people. As if she wants me to _know_ that she is tailoring herself for different people. This is why you boys are going to spend some time with her _just the two of you_. I expect she will be somehow different if I am not there to – stifle her in some way, most likely. Afterwards, explore London or do whatever you want. It is fine if you don’t return until after supper.”

Albus was not looking forward to seeing Ariana. He had been to see her a few times before leaving Britain, but not at all since the botched ritual. First, he had felt guilty, and then he had been out of the country. So, he had no idea what to expect. But even if he had fully accepted Aberforth’s and Bathilda’s accounts of Ariana’s changed capabilities, that would not have prepared him for what he found at St. Mungo’s.

“Albus!” she greeted him happily. “Oh, and you brought Gellert! Lovely!”  
“How did you know this is Gellert? You’ve never seen him.”  
“Who else would he be? And besides,” she grabbed Albus’ arm, and dragged him towards her so she could whisper in his ear, “I can see the bond. Congratulations, Albus.”

Albus was startled. He looked at Gellert.  
‘She knows somehow.’  
‘What?’  
‘She can see magic – like I can, but not. She says she can see the bond between us.’  
Gellert broke eye contact to look at Ariana apprehensively.  
“Oh, don’t worry about it. There is a lot I don’t tell Aberforth. Now I suppose that one of you knows a clever privacy spell?”

This was not going at all the way that Albus had anticipated. His privacy spell probably was a good idea. He took out his wand and cast it.  
“It’s ok,” Ariana said once their conversation was protected. “You don’t have to use your wand in front of me. And if anyone notices, we can just pretend I was the one doing it,” she said with a wink.  
Had he – fallen down a rabbit hole on his way here? Albus did sound a great deal like Alice…

A peal of laughter broke through Albus’ distraction and brought his focus back to what Ariana had said: ‘we can just pretend I was the one doing it.’  
“You can do magic?”

“Oh! You are feeling guilty, because you took some of my magic. Interesting. I had wondered… No, it’s ok. Thank you. There was too much of it, and I didn’t want it. There’s plenty left over. You’d be surprised what I can do. No, it isn’t accidental. Not any of it. But everyone thinks it is, so – let’s keep it that way? Anyway, now you don’t need a wand, which is – oh! Except for that Wand.”

Albus turned to Gellert. ‘What is happening?’  
‘You weren’t even looking in her eyes!’  
‘That – who would have – is it possible –“

“That I’m a natural Legilimens? Don’t worry. I don’t go digging without permission. But I do hear a steady stream of surface thoughts as they happen. Of course, for someone like you, who thinks so quickly, I do learn an awful lot more than you might like. Oh! I wonder if this is a common reaction. Stop, Albus. Stop. Take a breath!”

Ariana turned to Gellert. “He is thinking very rapidly of all the things he doesn’t want me to know. He wasn’t ready for this. Is he an Occlumens?”  
“Not a natural, but he is quite skilled at it, usually. I am as well.”  
Ariana nodded. “Albus, it’s ok. I am focusing on one of the other patients now, so that you will have a chance to gather your thoughts. I can only focus on one person at a time, so all of your secrets are yours. Your mind is yours, Al.”

“You – I’m usually – this was –“  
“Unexpected, I’m sure. Hush now. Close your eyes and focus. Shields up. Rhea is rather boring at the moment, and I’d like to be back to one of the two of you. It makes me uncomfortable not to know what the person I’m talking to is thinking.”  
Albus nodded. He had his shields up all the time, normally, but Ari had thrown him off so badly. 

Who was this girl? Ariana had never spoken more than five words in a row. And yet here was his sister…  
Albus took a deep breath and opened his eyes. 

“I know. So many questions, but first, let me – I apologise, Albus. I’ve never told anyone before about being a Legilimens, and – I didn’t know that would happen. Your fear, I mean.” Ariana rolled her eyes. “Fine, _not_ fear. Overly rapid thinking for _absolutely no reason_ , then. You seemed the best candidate, and it is lonely not having anyone know who I am or what I am doing. Well, that’s not the same at all, is it?”

It was very odd. Every time Albus had a thought, Ariana responded to it. It sounded like a monologue, but it wasn’t.  
“Oh! Albus. I’m sorry. This isn’t normal at all, is it? I just don’t have much experience with… normal?”  
“It’s fine, Ari,” Albus assured her, though in actuality he did not feel fine at all. “You can – “

“Yes, this is so much faster, isn’t it? No, I don’t know if it is possible to learn how to do this without looking in someone’s eyes. I don’t know anything about the kind of Legilimency you do. No, you would not want to hear more than one person at a time! It is miserable. That is the point. So, you – when you did – whatever you did to – did you really? Albus that was – he’s absolutely right, too!”

Gellert bumped his shoulder against Albus’. “Ha! ‘Absolutely right.’ I like her already!”  
Albus stepped away from Gellert and huffed. 

“I’m sorry Albus. I don’t want you to think – I am so grateful for what you did for me. It’s done, and you – you saved me.  
“I used to be able to hear everyone nearby. All at once. And that was – difficult. But I also could see magic – all of it – residual magic, latent magic in Witches and Wizards, spells as they were cast, the magic lingering around transfigured objects, permanent or long-term spells… Everything was lit up, dazzling, confusing. And so loud.  
“I first started hearing other people’s thoughts when I was very young, before the incident with the boys. I didn’t know what it was for a while. It was confusing. I didn’t know how to focus it, so I just heard everything at once.”

Oh. If she had always had her head full of other people’s overlapping thoughts… That must have been noisy, overwhelming. How could a person think their own thoughts like that? No wonder she had barely been able to pull together a sentence.

“Then the boys – they were so angry, and frightened. I – my magic seemed to be what was to blame, so I tried to stop having magic. I thought if I wanted not to have magic badly enough… but it burst out when I was stressed, when I was reminded of that day, and more and more things reminded me: someone feeling angry, or frightened, particularly frightened of me... seeing someone casting a spell... any of that might make my magic burst out - and I had no control over it. And making magic made everyone around me scared of me just like the boys had been... To hear everyone's emotions around me all the time as they were having them was painful. Dangerous.”

“But now, you’re – you said you could tune me out?”  
“Yes! I can only hear one person at a time. And if I think about it, I can choose which person. It’s so much better like this. Before, I was _always_ overwhelmed. I couldn’t tell which emotions were mine and which were coming from outside of me. I couldn’t tell what was real and what I had just seen in someone’s imagination… I can’t clearly remember – so many things. I only know that I killed mother because I’ve seen it in Aberforth’s head. Oh! And in yours now.  
“A body bind curse? Albus. You are just lucky I didn’t do more damage. You should have knocked me out, honestly.”

Gellert smiled. “It is a good thing I know Albus so well, or I would be completely lost in this – conversation.”

“I have rather been leaving you out, haven’t I?”  
“It’s fine, Ariana. He’s your brother.”  
“You are too, now.”

Ariana turned to Albus and laughed.  
“You did not ask if it was incest! Albus Dumbledore. Oh! He has a brother? Not like – oh… that’s very good.”

“You were going to let me talk out loud, Ari.”  
“I was _not_. I just said that I knew it was not normal. Not that I was going to stop doing it. And you said that I could - Yes, fine. Just one more thing – don’t worry about the chicken.”

“But you love your chickens!”  
“They are not my chickens anymore. They belong to the Hogwarts elves now. I would not have seen them again.”

Albus looked up at Gellert.  
‘She’s well! She’s – talking like – she’s so bright, and happy, and –‘  
‘Yes, it is wonderful, Schatz. But don’t think this absolves you from doing a blood ritual with no prior planning and with no idea of what you were doing! You were lucky!’  
‘Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.’  
Gellert shook his head and said out loud, “I very much doubt you will.”

He turned to Ariana, “I apologise. I am very glad that you are well. I just don’t want him to –“  
“Think that it will always turn out? That his intentions are enough? You are absolutely right.”

Albus felt a bit ganged up on.  
“Sorry about that, Al.”  
Albus pulled at his sleeve. This was going to take some getting used to.

“You said you – still have magic? And that the magic you have been doing is – purposeful?”  
“I can do little things if I concentrate. I remember what it felt like to be scared or angry, and I focus on an object and – I would show you, but they’d make you leave for ‘upsetting me’ – a reporter snuck his way in here a few weeks ago, and I exploded a couple of water glasses and sent his quill flying into the wall so fast that it stuck there. A Healer came and Obliviated him so that he couldn't write about it.”

Albus was astonished. He wished he could see all of Ariana’s threads. He wished he could have seen her magic before, to see what had made her out of control. Had she somehow stifled her intent threads? Or had she not had them at all? How could that have happened? And then the ritual transferred some of her magic to Albus, but maybe also some of his magic to her? And they both had their intent threads increased? Or maybe her intent threads were – released? 

Maybe she didn’t have less magic at all now, but her magic was in her control now? Because what she was doing – that was intentional, which made it wandless magic, really. Untrained, but – She could be a truly powerful witch. She already was a truly powerful witch. She had done three wandless spells concurrently, accomplishing exactly what she had intended. Could she do it without the fear and anger? Simply with pure intent? Perhaps with some focused training –

Ariana laughed. “No, Albus. I am not coming with you and Gellert. I am just fine here. Aberforth says – well, in his head - I’m already some political figure? Here I have protection – no one can come in to see me. The Mediwitches are real guard crups.”

“Good,” Gellert said. “Everyone should have a place that feels safe.”  
Ariana turned to him and tilted her head. “Or a person,” she answered.  
Gellert smiled and looked at Albus. “Or a person.”

He turned back towards Ariana. “I am a bit jealous that you can see his thoughts when he gets stuck in his head like that.”  
“It is fascinating. He moves very quickly. Question after question. Oh! Albus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass – no that’s quite right, we shouldn’t talk about you as if you were not here. I was enjoying your thoughts about the threads. I might try meditating on that. Perhaps I could draw them for you some time. No – it was too much. I’m afraid I didn’t notice – it was everywhere. Yes, that too. Right. Only long-term permanent spells. Yes, like your bond. It’s – no I’m sure you’d _think_ so, but imagine never being able to turn it off.”

“Ariana, I was wrong – “  
“No, Albus. Don’t be sorry. You were right to be afraid of me before – after all, Mother… I’m so sorry about Mother, Albus.”  
“Ariana – “

Tears started to fall down her face.  
“You were right. I was dangerous. I couldn’t –“  
“No, Dove, we could have helped you. I didn’t even try to look in your mind – I was frightened. If I had…”

“That was not your job, Albus. You don’t need to be sorry -”  
“Then neither do you. Unlike me, you didn’t even have control over your actions. Don’t apologise. I know you loved her, Ari.”  
“I loved you too, you know, through all the noise. I love you, Albus.”  
Albus’ eyes started to tear up. Ariana smiled shyly at him.

“I know I’m not as comforting as Gellert, but – you could come sit next to me and hold my hand. If you - ”  
Albus smiled and nodded and sat on the bed. He leaned in and hugged her.  
“Oh!” she said surprised. “You –“  
‘I know. It’s been a long time.’  
‘Thank you, Albus.’  
‘I love you, Dove.’  
‘It’s been so long since you’ve called me Dove. I missed it.’

Albus reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Ariana’s ear.  
“I – I’m so happy to meet you, Ari.”  
“You did this, Albus. Never feel sorry that you did this. And never doubt that you are a good man. Murderer or not. I understand why you did it.”  
Albus’ eyes widened.

“You are alarming him, Miss Dumbledore. He has had enough of a shock for one day, don’t you think?” Gellert asked with a weak smile.  
“Hmm. Perhaps you are right. And you have had hardly a shock at all.” She tipped her head and considered him.  
Gellert looked at her uncertainly.

“Oh! Lovely! Albus! I remind him of Otto! With my hair, and I’m the same age, and he thinks I’m mischievous and insightful! Oh, that’s sweet, thank you. I’m sorry you haven’t had the opportunity to tell Otto about you and Albus – I did not need to see that image of my brother’s arse – And – Oh! You are a terrible man, Gellert Grindelwald!”  
Gellert smirked. “I bet it drove you out of my head though, didn’t it?”

Ariana sighed. She looked at Albus. “I thought you were the one who didn’t trust anyone. Did you find someone just like you, then?”  
Albus narrowed his eyes at Gellert. “No – not just like me – more trusting than me for certain, in fact, so I’m not sure why you felt the need to show my little sister… whatever it is you showed her.”

“I’m sorry that you saw – umm – right. To be honest I _never_ would have done that on purpose. You said, ‘you and Albus,’ which then turned my thoughts to yesterday afternoon… you see, we haven’t had time today –“  
“Gellert!”  
“What? She’s _seen_ it – talking about it would hardly –“

Ariana laughed. “Enough, you two. Ok, Gellert. I promise I am only looking for a few things. I can ask you a few questions, and that can get your mind going in the right direction just keep all the things you don’t want me to see behind your shields.”  
Gellert raised an eyebrow.  
“No, I’m not in there right now. I’m monitoring the Medi-Witch outside the ward at the moment. I think she may give us ten more minutes, probably longer… she often loses track of time.”

“If you’re not in here, then how could you know I was _wondering_ if you were in here?“  
“It could not be more obvious. Albus – help me with your husband, please?”

“Gellert, Ari loves me, so she is going to love you, ok? You know how difficult I am to win over, and I trust her.”  
“You just met her!”  
“She’s let me in, Gellert. I mean, she could be deviously holding back all sorts of things with a preternatural occlusion ability. She could be the Dark Lady ready to tear us all apart…” Ariana giggled.  
“But from what I’ve seen… I would never encourage you to do something dangerous for you. You know that. I love you. More than anything.”

“Yes, but it is unnerving – I never let anyone but you –“  
“Yes, well, to be fair, I think that you are the only person Albus allows in his head as well. Now that you’ve helped him learn Occlumency. But perhaps if you allow me to look just long enough to answer my questions… perhaps Albus will take you to the rooftop garden!”

“Gellert is not a child to be bribed, Ariana.”  
“I don’t know, Albus. It depends on what you are bribing me with.”  
Albus looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I am not _bribing_ you with _anything_ , thank you. Just - sit over there,” he said, gesturing at the other side of the bed.

“Hold Ari’s hand, and relax… Good. You don’t have to look her in the eyes – just, look at your hand holding hers, maybe. Ari?”

“Ready Gellert?”  
“Yes, yes. But when you are done, you get straight back into Albus’ head," he said irritably.  
“Of course. I'm not going to stay in here a moment longer than - yes, I'm quite aware. Stop trying to take control, I want to make this easy for you. Well, now this is going to sound like a non sequitur. Yes, fine."

"If you would just go ahead and ask, I'd stop thinking random things," Gellert griped.  
"Oh, not random. No one's thoughts are random, not really. Sorry. No, you're right.  
"What do you admire most about my brother? Yes, he is isn’t he. Oh! Did he? Marvellous. And what annoys you – Hilarious! Yes, I promise."

Wait. What _did_ annoy Gellert about him? This seemed like important information for Albus to have.  
"Ari - "  
"Shut up, Albus. I'm talking to Gellert now.

"Agreed. That's your choice, obviously. What does he think about you? Surely not. No, I think you are entirely wrong. Yes, I know, but - Fine, have it your way. There, that’s more accurate. Yes! I don't care how much - well, I've been in there more than you have, haven't I? And you're determined to believe - you are not! Never mind. How about Bathilda? Really? She’s amazing. Well, that changes things. No, just surface reads, remember – but if I ask her different questions... Your parents?”

Oh no. Albus had been watching Gellert carefully the whole time, and he had been fine, even amused, but Albus didn’t need to be looking to know how he must be feeling right now.  
“No, stop!” Ariana said urgently. “Your best friend. No, other than Albus. That's right, Wolf. Otto did not! Poor Wolf. Keep thinking about Wolf… Good, Gellert - I’m out.”

Ariana threw her arms around Gellert. “Hug me back, you Arse! I know you’re a hugger.”  
Gellert wrapped up Ariana in his arms and held her tightly.  
Ariana whispered to him, “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. You are a good man, Gellert Grindelwald. Thank you for taking care of my brother, and your brother. I never would have asked if I had known.”

Gellert pulled back and wiped a tear off of Ariana’s face, and she laughed shakily.  
“I don’t know how _you_ aren’t crying.”  
“I –“  
“He doesn’t. Generally.”  
“No, I suppose you’d dehydrate.”  
“Ari!” Albus scolded. 

“Sorry. I – am new at this. You can go back to thinking about having sex with my brother, if that helps.”  
“Merlin! Ariana!”  
Gellert laughed. 

“Why not? I don’t have to see it! Or at least, now that I’ve pulled out of your mind as well.”  
Albus blanched. It was true that 'thinking about having sex' had brought up a few memories...  
Gellert laughed. Albus looked at Gellert and Gellert smiled wickedly at him.

“So. She’s pulled out of your mind _as well_ …”  
Was Gellert actually...? Gods, Ari was right. 'Go back to thinking about having sex.' How embarassing.  
Just now was probably not the time for Albus to check in about Gellert's father. It was probably better to allow Gellert to escape for a moment.

Gellert held Albus’ eyes in his gaze and asked, “Still not looking, Ari?”  
“You can’t be serious. Together? Fine, go on, then. I’ll keep an eye on the Medi-Witch.”

‘Stand up, Schatz. You’re not going to want to see this while sitting with your sister.’  
Albus’ eyes widened, but he stood, and Gellert did too. Gellert pushed an image of him sitting on a bench in a garden, Albus standing in front of him. He was unbuttoning Albus’ trousers just far enough for him to take Albus’ cock into his mouth.  
Albus gasped audibly.

‘We need to find this rooftop garden as soon as we get out of here, Liebhaber.’  
Albus pushed an image of Gellert tied to the bed in Godric’s Hollow, Albus slowly, torturously running his fingertips everywhere but where Gellert wanted them most. Biting Gellert on his thigh…  
‘Or I should take you home.’  
‘Oh, well played, Liebhaber. One thing at a time. No reason we can’t do both.’

“Are you two just about done?” Ariana asked impatiently.  
Albus blushed, and Gellert laughed. “Almost.”  
‘You are beautiful, you know that?’  
Albus struggled to maintain eye contact. ‘I am not.’  
‘You are – your lips, your eyes, your everything. I wish I could kiss you right now.’  
‘Me too. I love you.’  
‘I love you, too. Do you think you can hold yourself together for five, maybe ten more minutes?’  
Albus laughed out loud. “No.”

Albus repackaged all of those thoughts and filed them away.  
“Alright, Dove, you can tune in to me now, if you like.”

“You're welcome. I agree - not just him. Both of you needed it. Sure, we can move on.  
"You’re picking up Aberforth? And you’re bringing him here?”

“Yes, but – after that – I’m not going to be able to come back for a while. And I suppose you can’t keep people from reading your mail…”  
Albus pulled out a quill.  
“Hold this.” Ariana took it.  
“Now, I want you to pour your love for me and your loneliness and your curiosity and your desire for privacy all into it.”

He waited while Ariana closed her eyes and focused on the quill.  
“Everything that this quill will write, it can only be read by you – the ink will only recognize your magical signature. Do you believe that?”  
Ariana nodded.  
"Good. Open your eyes."  
Albus held out his hand for the quill, and Ariana returned it to him.

“Now let’s try it – ”  
Albus took a scrap of parchment out of his inner jacket pocket, and a pot of ink.  
Ariana giggled. “Really, Albus?”  
“You never know when an idea will come to you,” Gellert and Albus said in unison. Albus looked at Gellert indignantly, and Gellert made a rude gesture and laughed.

Albus rolled his eyes, then scribbled a few words and handed the parchment to Gellert.  
“Brilliant! It works,” Gellert confirmed, adding silently, 'You have a genius for natural magic, Love.'  
'I couldn't have done it if Ariana were not already so skilled at wandless magic.'  
'Still. The things you could teach her...'  
“We’ll see,” Albus replied, handing the parchment over to Ariana. She read it and smiled shyly. 

“You can’t mean that, Albus.”  
“You certainly are. Only a very powerful witch could have enchanted this quill in that way.  
“Now… I will send you two letters each time. A boring one, written with an ordinary quill, and on the ‘blank’ side of the parchment will be the real letter, the letter only you can read. Let me make an Albus quill for you so you can do the same.”

Once he had keyed a quill to his magical signature for Ariana, he kissed her on her forehead.  
“Now you can be my research partner, Dove. I’ll miss you.”  
“Me too. But this will help,” she said, waving the quill and then putting it in her bedside table drawer. 

“And anyway, I’m seeing you again in a couple of days.”  
Albus sighed, “Yes. With Aberforth.”  
“He’s difficult, I know, but he _is_ bright, and he wants very much for you to like him.”

Albus doubted that his opinion about anything was important to Aberforth, but Ari raised her eyebrow at him, and he didn't even need to read her to know she was saying some variation on, 'trust me, you idiot.'

“He doesn’t make that easy.”  
“I know. He is always thinking unkind things about Gellert. And he used to think that you didn’t like me… No! Don’t worry – I know that’s not what it was. Anyway, I’m just saying, just because he is not as powerful as you, and just because he doesn’t understand about you and Gellert, that doesn’t mean that we should look down on him – there’s a lot to like about Aberforth. The _only_ reason I’m not telling him is that I don’t want him to pull me out of here. Ok? It’s not that I like you better –“

“You like _me_ better, though, right?” Gellert interrupted.  
“Of course!” said Ariana happily. “You are my favorite brother-in-law.”  
Albus laughed. “Yes, he is truly _singular_.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes.

“And he has very nice hair.”  
“Ariana! Don’t flirt with my husband!”  
“No, no! Flirt with his husband!” Gellert encouraged.

Ariana laughed. “I was not flirting with Gellert," she scolded Albus playfully. "I was teasing you. You are supposedly here to visit me, but you have been distracted by how good looking Gellert is almost non-stop since arriving here.”  
“So – _you_ don’t think I have nice hair?” Gellert asked with an exagerrated pout.

Ariana rolled her eyes at Gellert. “I know you are not begging me to say that you are attractive. Surely you know how good looking you are. It’s absurd. Honestly.”  
Gellert smirked and winked at her. Ariana laughed as he bent down to kiss her hand.  
“You, Liebling, have exceptional taste.”

Albus laughed, then put on a look of indignation. “I can’t believe it’s both of you! Gellert, don’t flirt with my sister!”  
“I would never!”  
Albus raised an eyebrow.  
“Well – not in earnest.”

Ariana smiled softly at Gellert.  
“Thank you. It is rare for me to have such fun.”

Ariana started laughing uncontrollably. That seemed – strange. Albus was about to ask when Ariana exclaimed, “Gellert! Don’t be ridiculous!”  
“I thought you weren’t going to read me again,” he complained.  
“Well – I tend to pick up on strong thoughts _about_ me, no matter my current focus. I wasn’t trying to…”

“What?” asked Albus, impatiently. He was missing the beginning of the conversation.  
“He was thinking that I should get to have this much fun whenever I want, and if I ever changed my mind about leaving here, he would gladly _stage my death_ and keep me _polyjuiced in perpetuity_ , so I could travel with you two.”

“Oh! Staging your death… that is achievable…”  
Albus began thinking through the logistics. They would probably need an actual body. How would they be sure it would look like Ariana for long enough for the funeral? Most spells and potions didn’t last nearly long enough. And getting the body… Perhaps a Muggle morgue?

“Gods!” Ariana exclaimed. “Your mind is so disturbing sometimes, Albus!” Then she laughed. “I love it. Everyone here is so boring.”

“Speaking of which… Our time is up. Madam Starling is coming to remove the two of you. Better –“  
“Take down the spell?” Albus asked.

When the Medi-Witch approached, they were all speaking about what Ari had had for breakfast that morning.  
“You ducks need to waddle off. Our girl has had quite enough excitement for one day.”

Albus hugged Ariana one more time. “I’ll see you soon, Dove.”  
Gellert hugged Ariana too, and seemed almost to cling to her for a moment. As Gellert pulled away, Albus noticed Ariana looking at him with concern.  
‘Ariana - ?’  
‘It’s for him to say, Albus. Be good to him. He is more fragile than you are.’  
‘I’ll do my best, Ari. Always.’

When they were in the elevator, Gellert asked the elf attendant to take them down to the lobby. Albus looked at him quizzically.  
‘I – have a lot to think about. We’ll have to find another garden later.’  
‘That’s fine, Love. Shall we take a ride on some underground trains? Or go to the National Gallery? Or St. Paul’s?’  
‘Pub first. Then a walk. Then… apparate home?’  
He was passing on trains? Not even the train back to Godric’s Hollow?  
Albus forced a smile. “Then home.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

After supper, Bathilda excused herself to her study, to work on her latest book. Gellert led Albus to the parlour. Albus straddled Gellert on the sofa and leaned in to kiss him. He’d been waiting all day. But Gellert laid a hand on Albus’ chest and held him back.  
“Not yet, Albus – I – there’s something I need to tell you.”

Albus climbed off of Gellert, and Gellert cast the usual privacy charms.  
“How should I?’  
“Head in my lap? Maybe?”  
Albus lay down, and Gellert laid a hand on Albus’ shoulder. 

“I saw something – just before we left. I’m sorry, Love – “  
“Gellert?”  
“She isn’t going to live very long there in St. Mungo’s, Albus. I don’t know why. Maybe it is because there are so many people with contagious illnesses in and out all the time, maybe it is because she needs more to occupy herself – can a person die of boredom? Perhaps all those years of being out of control weakened her, maybe someone assassinates her to make her a martyr figure… if so, they’re really good – it looks like natural causes…”

“Gellert? What did you see – exactly?”  
“I don’t know if I should tell you – you are going to be seeing her so soon, and I don’t want her to see –“  
Albus sighed, remembering the way Ariana had looked at Gellert before they had left. “She knows, Love. She – remember? When someone is thinking about her…”

Gellert growled in frustration.  
“It’s not – she shouldn’t have had to see that!”  
“You shouldn’t have had to see it either, but you did, and she did, and we can’t change it. Do you want to tell me now? Or do you need to tear something apart first?”  
Albus felt Gellert’s magical energy building, and he quickly added, “Something not in here. Bathilda adores everything in this room. We are not going to destroy any of her things.”

Gellert started speaking in a dull voice. “She – maybe 10 years from now…”  
Ten years? She would only be 25. How was it possible…  
Albus lay there quietly, while Gellert began slowly massaging his scalp.  
“It wasn't clear what happened – "

“So maybe this was just us faking her death, like you suggested.”  
“No, Albus. I want to think that, I do, but - I saw her die, you were – you were with her, and I wasn’t able to be there with you, and you were – you were alone – no, Albus. It was real. I mean, it’s not certainly real, it could be real, if - ”  
“It’s ok. I know what you mean…”

Albus couldn’t let this happen. He had just gotten to know his little sister. He wouldn’t be able to bear watching her die.  
“So, we should try harder to get her to leave with us, right?”  
“If that will prevent it, yes. But what if she will die sooner if we do take her? What if… We have some time to think about it. Probably.” Gellert pulled at his hair. “I hate my sight. All the time.”

“No! Gellert, no. Wanting to be able to help Ari and not knowing how, that’s frustrating. But it’s better than not having this information and having her just die.”  
“Is it? Even if you try to save her and can’t? If I didn’t have this _gift_ …”

Albus could feel Gellert’s magical energy building again. He sat up, and straddled Gellert as he had been doing before. He took Gellert’s face in both hands and looked him in the eyes.  
“Stop. _I love you_. Every part of you. _Every_ part. I know that your sight is uncomfortable for you. I know that I will never understand just how painful it is sometimes. But it is part of you, and it is not going away. So, you – and I – we are both going to need to find a way to make peace with it.”

Albus dropped his hands and Gellert buried his face in Albus’ shoulder.  
“I don’t want it.”  
Albus smoothed Gellert’s hair with one hand, and wrapped his other arm around Gellert’s back, holding him as close as he could.  
“I know, Love. I know. Of course, you don’t.”

Albus leaned back and smiled at Gellert. “Shall we go into the forest now and shatter some rocks?”  
“Gods, I want to kill something.”  
“Let’s umm – wait? On that? I don’t want you to regret it.”  
And Gellert _would_ regret it. Albus was personally of the opinion that killing something would be more satisfying (certainly _he_ felt like killing something right now), but Gellert... he couldn't encourage that knowing how Gellert would feel about it later.

“Firewhiskey?”  
“Gellert –“ Albus warned.  
Gellert sighed. “You’re right. Rocks it is, then.”

Albus stood up and offered Gellert his hand. Gellert stood and kissed Albus.  
“Thank you. For loving me.”  
“You never have to thank me for that, Gellert. Loving you is – part of who I am.”

Albus kissed Gellert gently, then ran his hands down Gellert’s arms and held both of his hands.  
“You are extraordinary. Everything I want.”

Albus let go of Gellert and started walking towards the door. He looked over his shoulder.  
“Come on, then. Let’s go destroy something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, my longtime HC was that Ariana was even more powerful magically than Albus, and was suffering from untreated PTSD. This fic adds the idea that she is an untrained natural Legilimens, who was in a negative feedback loop ("my magic made people scared, so I'm scared of my magic, so I make scary magic when triggered by what I see in people's minds, and now I'm reading in my people's minds that my magic makes them scared, so I'm scared of my magic" and so on.) That would put her in a state of constantly being retraumatized.  
> It is unclear if she has recovered as much as she thinks - or as much as she is leading Albus to believe.  
> I hope that all made enough sense - my brain is not completely on-line at the moment.
> 
> I have already made one minor correction - the London Underground was not yet called the Underground in 1900 - at that time, it was a handful of individually named individual lines owned by individual companies.
> 
> In other news:  
> It is a matter of some disappointment to me that, while ‘screw’ (meaning, to have sex) was in use in the 1700s in the US and had made it to Britain by the 1800s, ‘screw you’ (meaning, you can fuck right off, thank you very much) didn’t make it into the vernacular until the 1940s. And I had such banter built all around that. *sigh*
> 
> Another word that was not in use in 1900? Handjob. (Or, as it was originally written, hand job, or hand-job.)
> 
> We are all going to be so well educated about the history of the vocabulary of sex by the time I'm done writing this 🙄 Pay attention - there may be a quiz later, LOL


	36. Platform 9 ¾

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus is to blame for this chapter taking so long to be posted. He was trying very hard not to have to pick up his brother at Platform 9 ¾. But he finally realized that he would not get to do anything else until he met this obligation. And he discovered that it was not as onerous a duty as it had seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, Cygnus Black is born a year earlier than in canon, simply because I wrote it down incorrectly at one point, and I had been building towards Phineas and Albus reconnecting on Platform 9 ¾, and not making this one small correction would require so many other changes to the outline - changes I was not, in the end, willing to make… So - yes, I am aware that Cygnus would not really have started at Hogwarts until September 1900 at the earliest, perhaps even September 1901. I’m aware and brazenly ignoring it.
> 
> See endnotes for a spoiler that falls under the 'underage' warning - so that, if it is necessary for you, you can screen for squicks and triggers.

Chapter 33  
June 1900 (continued)

Albus waited so long to leave for King’s Cross that Bathilda started fussing.  
“You don’t want to arrive after Aberforth!”  
Albus didn’t want to arrive at all. He resented having to return to Platform 9 ¾, he resented his mother for not being there, for leaving him to be this inadequate parent substitute for Aberforth. And if he had to meet the train at all, he resented having to go alone. He needn't have done so if Gellert and Aberforth were not both completely incapable of being civil to one another.

Why shouldn’t Aberforth be made to confront the reality that Albus loved a man – a man that Aberforth disliked only because Albus loved him? Why should Albus pretend to be something he wasn’t when even the imaginary Albus he projected did not meet Aberforth’s standards? Why couldn’t Aberforth ever be grateful for what Albus did do for him, instead of always noticing only what Albus _didn’t_ do? Why did he have to show his disdain for Albus so openly, in a way that inevitably antagonized Gellert? 

And why couldn’t Gellert accept that he didn’t need to protect Albus from Aberforth? For ten years, at least, Aberforth had been difficult, sour, and insulting – yet somehow, Albus had managed to survive these indignities without Gellert’s interference.  
Aberforth might make violent threats, but he had followed through perhaps twice. Arguably, _Albus_ had been the one to strike the last physical blow with his Stupefy the night Mother had died. Aberforth had had all summer to retaliate – instead, he had only grumbled and threatened. 

Aberforth was never going to rise to Gellert’s standard of brotherly affection. All Gellert knew of brothers was kind, mischievous, hero-worshipping Otto. Albus could accept that this made it difficult for Gellert to understand Albus and Aberforth’s relationship. But that didn’t mean that Gellert had to blow it all out of proportion. He was capable of controlling himself around anyone else, seemingly. Why couldn’t he let it go, instead of making things worse?

Now, Albus was on the platform by himself because both his brother and his husband were incapable of behaving in public. He couldn’t trust Aberforth not to say something dangerous to or about Gellert – something loud, something that could lead to both himself and Gellert being put under investigation for ‘illegal relations.’ And he couldn’t trust Gellert not to take something as simple as ‘naturally you were too much of a coward to come alone,’ as justification for turning Abe’s shoes into cakes of soap, or making all of his hair fall out, or making him bleat like a goat whenever he tried to speak. 

Albus sighed. He hoped that Aberforth getting Albus to himself for a couple of days would at least ease the jealousy on Aberforth’s end, and allow their journey to the monastery to go smoothly.  
It wouldn’t do to dwell on it. He wondered how much longer it would be before the train came. Perhaps he should ask someone and so initiate a conversation to pass the empty time.

Looking to his left, Albus noticed that someone was moving towards him with a long and steady stride. He would not have to seek someone out after all – conversation was coming to him.  
“Albus!”  
“Phineas? What are you doing here?”  
“Cygnus managed to get himself sorted into Ravenclaw this year.”  
Cygnus… Albus had thought he had known all the Blacks.

“Another brother?”  
“The youngest. Father is not pleased. Mother says that Aethelfrith hadn’t thought any of us but Sirius and Belvina were ‘true Slytherins,’ but he was trying to ‘spare us the drama of the Headmaster’s displeasure.’ It seemed a good year to take a chance, but it seems he miscalculated, and… well, mother and Sirius and I decided that he might do better to have some time away from Hogwarts this summer.”

Where to begin? Who was Aethelfrith? Was that – did the Sorting Hat have a _name_? Why did the Sorting Hat take a chance on a true Sorting for Cygnus but not for Phineas or Arcturus? And –

“Aethelfrith – the Sorting Hat, then? What house did he think you belonged in?”  
Phineas blushed. “You mustn’t laugh at me, Albus.”  
“I won’t! I promise!”  
Phineas looked at his shoes, then looked up at Albus. Albus imagined he was trying to look threatening, or at least stern, but he just looked – adorably uncertain.

“Hufflepuff.”  
“Of course, he did. You would have made an excellent Hufflepuff.”  
“You are making fun!”  
“I am not. Hufflepuffs are kind to everybody, popular with everybody, and able to see everybody’s point of view. I don’t know why I didn’t guess it before you said so. I’m glad that Aethelfrith sorted you into Slytherin, anyway. We couldn’t have won the Quidditch Cup so many times without you.”  
“Is that – umm… Is that the only reason –“

Phineas looked around nervously. Albus sighed and cast his privacy spell.  
“Phineas. I’m glad that I knew you in school. I had always supposed – we were in such different orbits in school, I never really got to know you, even being in the same house. But I’m hoping that we can become better friends. I have heard from Charles Harley that you have some ideas about Muggles that might mesh with my own –“  
“Are you sure about that?” Phineas asked skeptically. “My father has said –“

“Your father thinks that he has divined my politics without once speaking to me about them, and he has been using my family as a symbol of his campaign without regard for the fact that we are first and foremost real people. But exactly how sure I am about your politics depends on how sure you are of your ability to Occlude from him.”  
“Well… given that you masterfully avoided my question about your interest in me, I am guessing you are already aware of why I might have a need to be skilled at Occlusion.”

Brother Grigorios was right. If this was what counted as top shelf evasion to Phineas… they could not be less suited. Not that Albus had doubted Brother Grigorios' assessment - he had never known Brother Grigorios to be more than incrementally wrong about a person. And while he had _noticed_ Phineas in school (who wouldn't have?), Albus himself had never thought that he and Phineas might make a good couple. It seemed he had been right not to.  
“Phineas, I didn’t know how you felt. Not until Brother Grigorios said something to me a few weeks ago.”  
Phineas laughed nervously. “Brother Grigorios?! That man –“  
“Is terrifically, annoyingly observant? Yes.”

“But now that you know?“  
Albus took advantage of the fact that Phineas was looking in his eyes. Yes, this was no passing infatuation. Phineas was in love with him. Had been for some time. He was practically radiating sincerity. And dog-like affection.

But there were so many questions that Albus could not answer, that he wished he could answer with a single read. Could Phineas keep a secret? And what would motivate him to do so? If Albus were to confide in him, how easily would he break that confidence?  
Certainly, Albus knew a few things about Phineas, if it came to it. But he would prefer to build on what natural loyalty Phineas had to him rather than resort to being a threat to Phineas' reputation.  
If Albus could trust Phineas, was it possible that confiding in him could provide him with a sufficiently satisfying bond that he could be retained as an ally? Would it be enough for Phineas to be genuinely important to Albus – even if it were not in the way he was wanting? Was some sort of symbiosis achievable? It seemed worth the risk.

“I would have thought you were seeing someone, Phineas.”  
“Father wants to arrange a marriage for me, but –“  
“But you are not interested in women at all? Or you are not interested in the women he is considering for you?”  
“I thought – weren’t we just talking about –“

“I was not wishing to assume that because you were interested in me that you have only ever been interested in men.”  
Phineas was silent. Albus caught his eye. Oh. This question had confused him. 

“It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t right of me to ask.”  
“That’s fine, Albus. It’s – I’m not interested in women. Or, in any women I’ve met. I haven’t met every woman, so –“  
Albus laughed.  
“It’s ok to think you have a general idea.”

“So, could we, maybe – I would like it if you would – “  
“I’m with someone, Phineas.”  
“And you’re happy with - her?”  
Albus smiled, “I’ve already met the woman I would be interested in if I were ever to be interested in a woman, and it turns out I’m not interested.  
“That is to say, I’m happy with _him_.”

“Oh. But – if you _weren’t_ happy–“  
“ _Very_ happy, Phineas. Happy enough not to entertain dangerous ‘if you weren’t’ questions. But – I have always liked you. You are bright, and good with people, you have a good feel for the British political landscape, and you agree that Wizards need to understand that Muggles have far more to offer than we have been led to believe. We should be friends. If you can. If it’s not upsetting for you that I am with someone else, because that is not going to change.”  
“I don’t think – I can’t –“

“Phineas.”  
“Albus, it’s been _years_.”  
“It has been brought to my attention that I’m oblivious, yes.”  
Phineas looked away, his whole body stiff, one hand smoothing non-existent wrinkles from his robe.

“Who is he?”  
“He’s – not from Britain.”  
“Albus, with respect? I’m a Black. Whether or not he is from Britain has less to do with whether I know him than his blood status. If he's a Pureblood, I know him, if he's from Europe. And if he's a Halfblood, there's a decent chance.”  
“Gellert Grindelwald?”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”  
“Cursing like a Muggle, too? I am more determined to be your friend than ever. I want to know all about what you have been up to in the Muggle world. And your favourite Muggle restaurants. Muggle food is outstanding.”

“Don’t deflect, Albus. You are with _Grindelwald_? Really?”  
Albus grinned. “You are going to hurt my feelings now, Phineas. You practically ask me out, and then you imply that my boyfriend is too good for me!”  
“It’s not – he’s the Grindelwald _heir_! Albus, I know you're not a pureblood, but you _are_ a Slytherin, at least - surely you must know what this means. Or at least _he_ should never have let you believe – this can't possibly last - he can’t keep you, and –“  
“If you were about to add that his father is a murderous bastard, then you are 100% correct. But he does get to keep me, if he wants – he’s been liberated. Otto is the heir, now.”  
“Oh? Oh! They – wow. He must have been…”

Albus laughed. “Caught? No, you are not much of a Slytherin, Phineas. A good man, but shit at concealing your thoughts.”  
“I can hide them just fine,” Phineas protested. “I’m not interested in hiding them from you. That’s different.”  
Albus sighed. “I suppose it is. Any other objections to Gellert, besides that he is too pretty for me, too rich for me, too high status for me, and his family is a menace?”  
Phineas smiled ruefully. “He’s not too pretty for you Albus. No one could be too _anything_ for you.”

“I appreciate your biased opinion, but that was your absolute last chance to flatter me so thoroughly. Any further overtures will get you in a bit of trouble with me. Flirtation for the sake of humour may be allowed, but it will have to be clear that you are simply playing. While Gellert is himself a good man, he is also prone to jealousy, so – you are going to need to decide if you can –“ Albus held up his hand and gestured at Phineas’ face, “ - not look so much like you are pining after me.”

“Albus! That was just mean.”  
“That was direct, Phineas. I’m a Slytherin trying to speak Hufflepuff. I’m doing the best I can here.”  
“Hmm. Well, this Hufflepuff has lots of experience speaking Slytherin, so… it seems that an informal alliance between the two of us would be advantageous for social and political reasons. I trust neither of us has any interest in jeopardizing that?”  
“Oh, very good. Yes. That’s it exactly.”

“Umm… you should know, I – kissed Gellert once at a party.”  
“I’m not sure that I should know that, no. Unless it was less than ten months ago, in which case I am going to have to have a word with him,” Albus said with a wink.  
“Oh! No, no, no. It was – three years ago?”

“So – you kissed Gellert at a party. You were… 16? 17? And he was 14, probably?"  
"Shit! Only 14? I never would have...!"  
Nothing like the reminder of how precocious your husband had been. 

"But you didn't know. And you weren't all that much older at the time. Anyway, I'm sure he intitiated it," Albus added with a roll of his eyes. Yes, Gellert had probably started planning his move the moment he noticed Phineas looking at him appreciatively. 'An attractive person shows they are interested in you...'  
Albus was seeing the whole thing unfold in his head. He wished that he did not have such a vivid imagination.  
"So, that’s all?”

“Well, and… that was my first time kissing another boy.”  
Albus nodded. Who was he to judge? Gellert was his first kiss, too, and Albus had been nearly 18.  
“I see. Well, that’s rather meaningful.”  
“For me? Yes. For him? Probably not.”  
Albus raised one eyebrow.  
“I’m not sure I like what you are implying about Gellert’s relative experience,” he said with a smirk. He said it as if it were a joke, but it was true that this conversation was making Albus wonder exactly how many Wizards across Europe could say that Gellert was the first boy they had kissed. He wondered who had been the first Wizard to kiss Gellert. Not Phineas, almost certainly.

“No! I – just – I imagine it is – _less_ meaningful for him, or should be, since he is with you, and –“  
“And?”  
Phineas blushed.  
“And the rest is private and no one else but me needs to know.”

Worse and worse.  
Albus found that he couldn't fight the sadistic - and masochistic - impulse to pin Phineas down on this matter.  
“In other words, you wanked to that meaningful memory and variations on it for months afterwards?”  
Phineas rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.  
“Not months afterwards. Years. Last week. Jesus.”  


Ignoring that he had been the one to press him into continuing to speak, Albus considered that Phineas appeared to have a compulsion for speaking more truth to Albus than was necessary - and that he was going to have to break Phineas of the habit, for his own sanity.  
Nevertheless, Albus laughed. He should be jealous, he supposed, and he probably would be later, but… he could concede that there was something hilarious about it. The Wizarding world was entirely too small. 

“I’m so sorry, Albus. I didn’t know –“  
“Yes. Well. See it doesn’t happen again,” Albus said in a teasing tone. Though he meant it. Later had come already, and now he was wondering how many Wizards were getting off to fantasies they’d constructed around experiences they had had with his husband. A little reassurance would have been nice right about now, but he wasn’t meant to see Gellert that night or the following.

“This is mortifying. Am I going to have to see him?”  
“Not right away, Phineas. Not until you’re ready.”  
“Then again, perhaps I should…” Phineas lifted one eyebrow and smiled crookedly. “How committed is he to you? Because if _you_ aren’t interested in me, I could always try my luck with –“

Albus managed a laugh.  
“Perfect. I knew you could play the game. You’ll fit right in. Well, since we have exhausted that topic of conversation, why is it you are the one picking up Cygnus, instead of Sirius?”  
“Sirius would have been the better choice, certainly. He decided that he needed to leave the country suddenly, making Cygnus my responsibility. What do twelve-year olds even like to do?”  
“The thing I best remember about being twelve is disliking other people judging me on the basis of other twelve year olds. Sod twelve. Figure out what _Cygnus_ likes to do.”  
“I have no idea. I’m really closer to Sirius than anyone else in the family. And Mother. And Aethelfrith.”

“Aethelfrith is an uncle? A cousin? Earlier when you had said… I thought you meant that Aethelfrith was the Sorting Hat,” Albus said with a self-deprecating laugh.  
“No, you were right. Aethelfrith is the name of the Sorting Hat. But he spends so much of his time in the family apartment, he started to feel like a grandfather to us children. I think he’s Mother’s best friend, to be honest.”  
Interesting…

“And your father?”  
“He is not particularly fond of Father. Don’t tell anyone.”  
“Naturally not. I’m not even sure how that could be worked into conversation.”  
That did not keep it from being useful information, however.  
“So, this Hat…”

Albus was interrupted by the train whistle. Very soon the train would be pulling into the station, and Aberforth would look out the window and see -  
“I’m sorry, Phineas. I was distracted. The train… My brother is a Gryffindor. With a very loud voice. And a disagreeable personality. I love him a great deal, but I would wish him on no one. So, if you know what is good for you and your baby brother, you will find some decent people to wait with.”

Albus shook Phineas’ hand.  
“It has been delightful seeing you again. Owl me? I am leaving England after a few days – I need to get Aberforth to Greece to study with Brother Grigorios for the summer – but we can at least correspond until we are in the same city again?”

Phineas smiled sadly.  
“Thank you for the invitation to write – I will do so. I have been perhaps too forward today, but – do not think, Albus Dumbledore, that being called your friend would be a poor substitute for anything. I will happily aspire to it.”

Phineas walked further down the platform and greeted a Muggle family. That had gone as well as he could have hoped. Better.

Now that Albus did not have a companion to distract him, he noticed how many people were pretending not to stare at him. And in every head, the same thoughts, ‘Dumbeldore… attacked by Muggles… that poor girl…’  
He stopped listening. The train had pulled into the station. Hopefully their excessive curiosity would abate once their children arrived. Albus had found it difficult to read the Daily Prophet as often as he should, to stay on top of the latest gossip about his family. He needed to get over being offended and start paying better attention.

But right now, he needed to save his energy. Shutting out the noise outside, Albus gave himself a moment to savour the memory of waking up that morning with Gellert wrapped around him in his sleep, his breath on Albus’ back, his cock hard against Albus’ arse. A morning no less perfect for being typical.  
He had wanted to just lie there and enjoy being held, but as was often the case, he was too wide awake, his mind spinning with dreams he had had and ideas that needed to be recorded and all of the requirements of the coming day… and he had needed to relieve himself in any case. As Albus got up, Gellert had whimpered, clutching at the empty space where Albus had been before settling back into a peaceful sleep. Albus loved him so much it ached.

Albus had gazed at his sleeping husband for longer than usual before turning away, long enough to fix the image in his mind. This morning had been the last time waking with Gellert alone on his own schedule before they made it back to Meteora, and Albus was feeling the loss already. 

He was brought back into the present by the sight of Aberforth with a heavy trunk on his shoulder.  
“I know you are perfectly capable of handling that yourself, Abe, but – if you would like, I could shrink it…”  
“No, Albus. I have ingredients in here – I don’t know what it will do to their potency –“  
“Oh! Of course. I’m sorry – I –“

Aberforth set down the trunk and laid a hand on Albus’ shoulder.  
“Stop it, Al. You owe me several apologies, but that is not one of them. Anyway, you came.”  
Yes, it had been right to leave Gellert behind. Just the phrase ‘you owe me several apologies’ would have gotten his hackles up. He would not have appreciated that this was actually conciliatory, coming from Aberforth.

His brother stepped back and added, “I would not say no to a featherweight charm. I forgot to have one of the seventh years do it for me before we left.”  
Albus gave Aberforth a smile, and found he almost meant it.  
“A featherweight charm. It would be my pleasure.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“What the devil is all this, Albus?”  
These were the first words Aberforth had spoken since they had first climbed into the hansom cab. Now standing in their hotel room, he unleashed the words that he had apparently been collecting in his mouth until now.  
“We used Muggle transportation through Muggle streets to get to this Muggle hotel…”

“Yes. Isn’t it interesting that the only way to access both the Hogwarts Express and St. Mungo’s is through Muggle London? You can floo in and out of the Ministry – why is there no floo at Platform 9 ¾? Why is there no floo in and out of St. Mungo’s? It is almost as if -”

“ _That_ is not what I am asking, Albus.”  
Albus sighed. “No, I know. Right – so, there are many more options in the Muggle world than there are in the Magical world. The only Wizarding accommodations in London are at the Leaky Cauldron. And as we are seeing Ariana tomorrow morning anyway, I thought, ‘why subject ourselves to apparition or floo?’ Wizarding transport may be nearly instantaneous, but it isn’t particularly comfortable.”  
Aberforth grunted. “Portkeys always make me sick.”  
“Yes! That is what I am saying. As long as we have to be in London tomorrow – and Muggle London at that – then why not stay in Muggle London?”

“And not the Leaky Cauldron, because…? Oh, cleverly done, Al – you are avoiding reporters!”  
“Correct. I was already seen on the platform, so word has spread that I am here, and now that we are public figures… I would rather wait before making some kind of statement, and I certainly would not want to be ambushed, forced to make a statement on the spot."

In truth, Albus would not have found it difficult at all to make a statement with no apparent preparation - he might have even preferred it. A seemingly spontaneous comment or two would have been seen as more sincere.  
But he was not interested in having to 'think on his feet' with Aberforth right beside him - both to spare himself anxiety and to spare Aberforth indignity.  
“I suppose you have had to fend off reporters yourself?”

In his letter, Aberforth had already expressed his anger about their privacy being violated. Best to demonstrate his awareness of the problem, rather than allow Aberforth to bring it up himself. 

“Albus. Black has taken me to the Wizengamot twice as his – apprentice or something. Show pony, more like. I have had to fend off worse than reporters.”  
Albus laughed.  
Aberforth responded with a scowl. “It wasn’t funny to me, these politicians. Flint is the worst of them –“

“No, it isn’t funny to me either, Abe. It’s just – I had forgotten how apt your expressions can be. ‘I have had to fend off worse than reporters’ is not how most people would think to describe a visit to the Wizengamot, but I daresay it is more accurate than anything else that could be said.”  
Aberforth’s face relaxed. 

“Food, then?”  
“Absolutely. What would you like? Muggle London is not like Magical London. There are well more than three restaurants. We can find anything here.”  
“Greek food? It seems, if I am going to Greece, I should see what I am in for.”

Albus laughed again. When he had left Britain, he had not anticipated how much he would miss Aberforth’s sour sense of humour.  
“Yes, well, that or we can get something you know you like as some sort of last meal before you go to the gallows.”

Aberforth didn’t acknowledge the joke. Maybe it didn’t seem like a joke to him. 

“Pub? Something like the Leaky, but -”  
“But more palatable?” Albus asked, laughing.  
“ _You_ could make better food than the cook at the Leaky.”  
“I’m not sure that was a compliment.”  
“It wasn’t,” Aberforth grumbled.

“That reminds me – Muggle ale is not…”  
“You needn’t worry, Albus. I went ‘round to the Muggle pub in Godric’s Hollow a good deal on those evenings you were at Bathilda’s.”  
‘At Bathilda’s.’ That was a nice circumlocution.

“That Martin’s a good fellow. Said that he wouldn’t give me more than a half-pint, on account of my age. But I convinced him that if he were to give me a half-pint again the next day, then that was already a pint, so what was really the difference in giving me a pint all at once, and me coming only every other day?”  
Albus sighed. There seemed to be no getting away from Martin.

“Let’s go get you a pint of Muggle ale, then, and some bangers and mash, maybe.”

Between the alcohol and the train trip, Aberforth fell asleep early that evening. Albus took advantage of having the room to himself to send a Patronus to Gellert – simply to say, “I love you, I miss you, sleep well.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Aberforth! You brought Albus!”  
“Yes, they still won’t let me come without someone of age.”  
“Surely you are nearly – how long has it been? Are you sixteen already?”  
Aberforth nodded shyly.  
“So, you will be seventeen soon, and you can leave Albus at home.”  
Aberforth looked at Albus and gave an imperceptible shake of his head.

Albus smiled gently at Ariana and locked eyes with her for a moment.  
“Hello, Ariana.”  
‘He hasn’t told me that you have been gone from Britain all this time.’  
“Hello, Albus. You look well.”  
‘You look miserable, actually. You are not going to die, being apart from Gellert for a day or two.’  
‘You have no basis on which to make such an assertion. I may very well perish.’

Aberforth sat and took Ariana’s hand.  
“How are you today, Ari?”  
Ariana tipped her head as she considered Aberforth.  
“Quiet.”  
Aberforth squeezed her hand.  
“Happy to see you,” she added.

Aberforth’s eyes dropped to the ground. Then he looked at Albus and – met his eyes? On purpose? Was he actually _asking_ …?  
Aberforth’s eyes widened and he gave a brief nod that he probably thought was imperceptible. It was subtle for him, Albus had to give him at least that much credit.

Ah. Aberforth was feeling guilty. Wondering if he should stay in England. Not wanting Ari to feel abandoned. Albus hoped that Ari had already switched over to listening to Aberforth.  
Albus gave a brief shake of his head and then gestured with his head towards Ariana. If Abe thought Ari was clueless, then he wouldn’t worry if Albus…  
‘Tell her,’ he mouthed silently to Aberforth. ‘She will be ok.’

Aberforth took a deep breath.  
“Ari, Little Feather, I –“  
Little Feather? Was that what Abe called her? That was adorable.  
“I might not see you for a little while.”

“Time to go back to school?”  
Aberforth looked at Albus searchingly. Albus nodded.  
“Yes, going to school. I am going to learn all about how to make potions.”  
“Like the potions they give me here?”  
Albus laid his hand on Aberforth’s shoulder.  
“Even better, Ari. One day, Abe’s going to make potions that are even better than the ones they have here now. Maybe even potions they will use here at the hospital.”

Ariana’s face scrunched up as if she were thinking through a difficult problem.  
“Abe’s going to be – a Healer?”  
“He is going to help the Healers.”  
“Ok. And – You’ll come see me when you get back from school?”  
“Always, Ari.”  
“I know. You always come back for me.”

Ari reached out her other arm, and Aberforth leaned in for a hug.  
Ari looked over his shoulder and met Albus’ eyes.  
‘So he thinks you think –‘  
‘That you are in school, like he is. Just gone for short periods of time, but busy.’  
‘You’re a good sister.’  
‘You’re a good brother… No, you most certainly are, Albus… You are taking him to Meteora – you could have left him to the Headmaster… Well, yes, you could do much better, if you were not you, but you are, aren’t you? And you need to take care of yourself. And Gellert. I’ll take care of Abe.’  
‘You’ll take care of Abe?’  
‘What do you think I have been doing?’

Ariana loosened her hold and Aberforth pulled back.  
“I’m hungry. I – “  
“Would you like me to get you something?”  
“No! I’ve missed you!”  
“I can get it Ari. Since I just saw you last week.”

Aberforth looked at Albus and raised an eyebrow.  
“It had been too long – I came at my first opportunity. Where do I go to get food?”  
“You just have to ask one of the Medi-Witches. They’ll help.”  
Albus nodded and walked off the ward.

When he came back with a bowl of soup, he discovered that Ariana already had food in front of her.  
“I'm sorry, Albus. They brought me something just after you left. You aren’t mad, are you?”  
“Of course not,” Albus answered, setting the soup on the bedside table, and bending down to kiss her forehead. “Never.”  
‘Liar.’  
‘Well, never starting last summer.’

“While you’re eating – would it be ok with you if I took Aberforth for just a minute? I got a bit lost out there, and I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”  
“Of course!” Ariana said brightly. “You will come back right away?”  
“Yes, Ari. Right away.”

Aberforth followed Albus into the hall.  
“What was that for?”  
“I didn’t want to upset Ari by asking – is she allowed out of bed? It seems unhealthy for her to never get to move around.”  
Albus had learned that sometimes, it was better not to know the answer to things he knew the answer to – and with Aberforth and Ariana… this seemed like one of those times. 

“Oh, no. She can get up.”  
“Do we – is she safe out of the hospital? Or – where can she go?”  
“There aren’t many places she can go. Apparently, she deboned the hand of a Healer she didn’t like a few months ago.”

Albus did not like the sound of that – he knew that Ari would just say that she could take care of herself, but nevertheless, he needed to know what that Healer had tried to do – or thought of doing to her. 

“So, she’s confined to the hospital?”  
“Yes, but there’s a nice garden on the roof.”  
“Do you think they’d let us take her there? She seems calm now.”  
“They usually let me take her – they say she’s calmer with me around.”

“You’ve always been good with her, Abe. Thank you. For visiting with her.”  
Aberforth sighed. “Thank you for coming last week. But I still say you should come more often.”  
“It is hard to visit from Prague or wherever. But I will start writing. I hadn’t realized she was this – lucid.”  
Aberforth scowled, and opened his mouth, but managed to stop himself from saying what Albus knew he was thinking – Albus would have known how Ari was doing if he had visited at all during the last three weeks before he left the country last summer. And Abe would have been right to say so.

They returned to the ward, where Ariana was smiling.  
“You’re back! I just finished my lunch.”  
‘It’s ok, Albus. I love you… You are not the first man to be frightened of facing the results of his thoughtless actions… well good, because that was not _meant_ to make you feel better… Enough - Abe is getting restless. He'll suspect you, soon.’

"Are you still here? No. I mean. Staying?"  
“We can stay long enough to take a walk," Aberforth answered. "Would you like that, Little Feather?”  
Ari slipped to the edge of the bed eagerly.  
“I love taking walks! I have been wanting to show Albus the garden! It is too bad that he didn’t get to see it last time…”  
Evil child.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Abe – do you know the head of the potions lab here at the hospital?”  
“No –“  
“Well, I don’t either, exactly. But he is the uncle of Harbard Rowle, one of my former dormmates, so – that might give us an in. It seems like a good connection to have for the future.”  
“We just – walk right in there?”  
“No, that wouldn’t do. We can go to the reception desk.”

They didn’t have long to wait.  
“So – “ said Thomas Longstreet. “The Dumbledore brothers. You say you were in Slytherin house with my nephew, Harbard? Not much of a potions student, that one.”  
“Well, if we were all Potions Masters, who would do everything else?”  
Master Longstreet clapped Albus on the back. “Well said. And the younger Mr. Dumbledore. I have heard from my brother-in-law that you were Black’s guest at the Wizengamot this Spring?”

Aberforth sighed. “He would like for me to go into politics. But I would much rather become a Potions Master.”  
Longstreet raised one eyebrow. He looked at Albus appraisingly. “I see.”  
He turned to Aberforth. “Well, if we were all politicians, who would do everything else? Or perhaps it would be better to say, who would do anything at all?”  
Aberforth laughed appreciatively. “It is very nice to meet you, Master Longstreet.”

Longstreet reached out his hand and Aberforth shook it. “And you as well. Call me Thomas. May I call you Aberforth?”  
“Certainly, sir. I mean, Thomas.”  
“Aberforth is going to spend the summer in Meteora, studying with Brother Gregorios.”

“Is that so? Wonderful. He is one of the foremost potioneers in Europe. Though I imagine at the monastery… Let me show you what a _modern_ potions lab looks like, Aberforth. And Mr. Dumbledore, if you wish.”

“Albus, please. And I have some business elsewhere in the hospital. Perhaps you can send me a memo when Aberforth has finished his tour?”  
Longstreet nodded, and gestured to Aberforth. “Follow me, lad.”  
Albus smiled at their retreating backs until they were out of sight. Then he hurried back to the ward to get a few minutes of unfiltered conversation with his brilliant, devious sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Phineas Black (not the headmaster, but the headmaster's son, now aged 20), recalls having kissed Gellert at a party when Phineas was 17 and Gellert was 14. It was fully consensual, except insofar as Phineas was unaware that Gellert was nearly 3 years younger than him, and likely would not have kissed him if he had known. Gellert was by no means unaware of the age difference.  
> Phineas, not knowing that Gellert was so young at the time, has been fantasizing about Gellert ever since then. Now that he knows, he is mortified by the whole thing.
> 
> So... if this sort of thing is a squick or trigger for you -  
> Stop reading at 'Albus! That was just mean!'  
> And then skip down about 10-12 paragraphs.  
> If you see Aethelfrith mentioned, or Aberforth, then you are definitely past it.
> 
> Now for our regularly scheduled note on vocabulary:  
> Have I mentioned that men only started 'beating off' in the US in the 1960s? And not until the 1980s in the UK?
> 
> There seem to be far too few vulgarities for male masturbation in the time period I am working with. At least, too few that I have found.  
> I am going to allow them to wank, rub one out, and jerk off - these words are first attested in literature in the years 1902-1905, which seems to me to be close enough - they seem likely to have arisen in the spoken vernacular before making their way into novels and judicial decisions.
> 
> It seems that people have been coming since the 1600s (thank God - these guys have been coming in nearly every chapter, and I was dreading having to change that), and getting off since the mid-1800s, but only orgasming since the 1970s - though they have been having orgasms for centuries longer. Seems like 'to orgasm' is yet another 20th century example of a noun being verbed - who knew?
> 
> That's enough of a vocabulary lesson for today, I reckon!


	37. Aberforth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some warnings on this chapter:  
> * There is - it doesn't go not quite so far as suicidal _ideation_ , but it is in that family of thoughts. More of a 'what if' thought  
> * There is more discussion of the sacrifice of Zinnie the house-elf  
> * There is a growing understanding of just how dangerous Gellert's father is  
> * And Aberforth says some truly hurtful and over the top homophobic things to Gellert and Albus
> 
> And if you require a warning for plotty chapters - this chapter is very plotty. Calling back to a few previous chapters with this one - including chapters 17,18, 27, and 33 (by AO3's index, not by my wonky numbering system. Listing them for reference, so that if you find yourself wanting to refresh your memory on one point or another, you don't have to reread all 180k words, LOL)

Chapter 34  
June-July 1900 

That same day, over a late lunch, Albus observed, “Those clothes of yours have been transfigured one too many times.”  
“They’re fine.”  
“They’re barely adequate. If they were to take their clothing OWL, they would score a Poor.”  
“Ah – so they could always try again and re-sit the exam.”  
Albus laughed – but he remembered what it had been to wear clothes that didn’t quite fit because they couldn’t afford new. Aberforth, three years younger than him, had rarely been taken to buy new clothes at all – he had simply been given the clothes Albus had outgrown. 

“Perhaps. Or I could buy you new clothes.”  
“Albus, we can’t afford –“  
“I can.”  
“I don’t want Gellert’s money.”  
He didn’t want Gellert’s anything, the stubborn arse.

“I’m offering _my_ money. Now that I’m not in school, I have far more time to write. I have articles being published three times a month. At least. And I have a sponsor who employs me to do research for him as well. My vault at Gringotts isn’t overflowing, but it isn’t empty, either.”  
Albus thought it best not to mention his patents. There was a limit to how much 'pretension' Aberforth could accept.

“Fine,” Aberforth grumbled.  
That was as close as Albus was going to get to a ‘yes, please, and thank you very much.’

“Now. We need to update your Muggle clothing, so that you can get yourself ale and evade reporters when you want to,” Albus said with a wink. “And you need a whole new Wizarding wardrobe, including school robes. You must have grown five inches over the past year and a half. You are nearly as tall as me, now.”  
“Nearly as tall? I’m taller, and you know it.”  
“I absolutely refuse to admit any such thing,” Albus said, grinning.

“Could we – I don’t want new clothes so much as I want –“  
“Yes?”  
“I need a new cauldron or two, and some protective clothing. Dragonhide gloves…”

Albus nodded slowly.  
“Let’s buy you one or two Muggle outfits as long as we’re here. Then we can go to Diagon, to the apothecary. When we’re done there, we will know how much money we have left to work with.”

Albus didn’t share that it wasn’t possible for Aberforth to spend too much on so few items. He hadn’t been lying about it being ‘his money’ exactly – he and Gellert had separate vaults only to keep up appearances, when it came to outside deposits. The goblins didn’t care about such things, so they held most of their money in a shared vault – and Gellert had agreed with him that it was their job to make sure that Aberforth was provided for, until he graduated from Hogwarts and found a source of income of his own. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Back in the hotel room after a late supper, Aberforth threw himself onto the bed.  
“That was awful!”  
Albus hummed in assent, though he was not sure what Aberforth had to complain about, since Albus had been the one to handle the reporter from the _Daily Prophet_ , the shopkeeper looking for a photo opportunity with the brothers of ‘that unfortunate Dumbledore child’, and the steady stream of random nosy ‘well-wishers.’

“Is it like that every time?”  
“Worse. Black encourages it.”  
Albus set his jaw. It took an effort to show he was angry about – anything, but it was perhaps an effort worth making. It had been a rule in their family not to show one’s emotions at all, but Albus was now considering that that habit might have contributed to the rift between his brother and himself. 

“I wish there was something that I could –“  
“There’s nothing you can do _now_ – it is too late now that _Black_ has taken hold of it. You’d have better luck pulling a rag doll intact from the jaws of a wild dog.”  
“Maybe.”  
“Albus, don’t –“  
“Don’t worry – I’ll leave him to it for now.”

Albus would take control of that Wizengamot seat one day – but not until Aberforth had graduated. He didn’t want to make things worse for him. 

“You’re tired?” Albus asked, silently cast a gentle sleeping spell over Aberforth. He had developed it for himself, for when he had to sleep without Gellert.  
“I –“ Aberforth yawned, “I am so tired. It has been a long day.”

Aberforth slowly and sleepily shed his clothes, pulled on a nightshirt, and crawled under the covers.  
“Are you –“ Aberforth interrupted himself with a yawn, “coming to bed?”  
“Soon, Abe. Not yet. I have a letter or two to write.”

Aberforth’s eyes dropped closed. Before long, they had opened ever so slightly, the way they always did when he slept.  
Albus remembered sitting on the sofa as a small child, a napping Aberforth’s head in his lap – how fascinated he had been by the way Aberforth eyes were exposed, but unseeing. His first experience with Legilimency was an accident – watching Aberforth’s eyes moving rapidly under his eyelids, and then being suddenly caught up in his dream.  
He couldn’t make sense of it at first, even after Aberforth had tried to tell him his dream after waking and Albus realized that he was making better sense of it than Aberforth was - that he recalled those images. It had taken him a couple of years, and several more accidental readings, to understand what had happened - what was happening.  
Aberforth had no idea, of course. If he had known that he slept with his eyes partially opened, he never would have been able to fall asleep in the same room with Albus. 

Whatever Abe might have expected of him, Albus had stopped intentionally watching his brother’s dreams when he was nine – it was too personal. Aberforth might say all of his thoughts were too personal, but after Ari’s injury, Albus had only ever read Abe in an effort to protect himself – and he didn’t need to know what Abe was dreaming about in order to do that.

Albus wished he could see Ariana’s threads. He had had an aptitude for Legilimency, but what would the magic of a natural Legilimens look like? 

Having all of these thoughts and no one to share them with… Albus had been missing Gellert all day long – collecting a list of all of the things he wished he could discuss with Gellert until he began to fear that they were too many, that he would forget before he saw him again. He missed the way that Gellert smelled, and the sound of his laugh and the feel of his lips on Albus’… but more than anything, he missed sharing his thoughts with Gellert. Thinking things through. _Better together_ – that was never so obvious as when they were apart.

Albus took a deep breath, then laid his hand on the bird tattoo that had flown down to his wrist.  
In less than a minute, he was in Gellert’s bedroom in Godric’s Hollow.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Lying on his belly, his eyes closed, Gellert gave a happy sigh.  
“You, Albus Dumbledore, are perfect in every way."  
Albus knelt beside him and moved his hair off to one side so that he could kiss the back of Gellert’s neck.

"So amazing... I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow, Liebhaber.”  
“I couldn’t wait. I missed you so much.”  
“And Aberforth?”  
Albus didn’t say anything, but trailed his fingertips along Gellert’s back.

Gellert pushed himself up and laughed.  
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! Did you potion your brother?!”  
Albus burst out laughing. Gellert had never called him out with all five names before.  
As soon as he was calm, he rolled his eyes and affected a petulant voice. "No, Dad."  
Gellert made a face. "Now that is just disturbing."  
"Says the man who is attracted to his own brother."

"I'm not _attracted to Otto_ \- I merely acknowledge that he is attractive."  
"Naturally you do - he looks just like you."  
"Albus Percival Wulfric Bri -" Gellert couldn't continue. He lost control completely. Albus was surprised he didn't fall off the bed.  
"Are you - are you -" Gellert laughed some more. "Are you saying that _you_ are attracted to my brother?"  
"No, Dad," Albus repeated with a smirk.

When Gellert finally managed to stop laughing, Albus answered his original question.  
“I was concerned that Aberforth might already be a good enough potions student to notice if I potioned him, so I charmed him. He won’t be awake until – well, it is still possible he could wake at two or three, if his body notices mine is missing from the bed. But he probably won’t wake until six or later.”  
“And it is only just past ten! Marvellous!”

Gellert pushed Albus onto his back, then climbed on top of him and licked a trail along his collarbone, kissed his neck, his jaw, his mouth.  
“I love you. I missed you.”  
He looked down at Albus – not smiling - after all that laughter, he should have been smiling, but...  
Oh, no. Gellert looked concerned, his eyes roaming over Albus’ face as if reassuring himself that he was not broken. 

“Gellert, Angel. Tell me.”  
“I just did. I love you.”  
Yes, but there was something Gellert _wasn’t_ telling him, and -

Gellert kissed all along Albus’ hairline, then ran his tongue down the shell of his ear, ending by sucking an earlobe into his mouth.  
“Gellert! Gods, yes.”

He felt Gellert’s cock beginning to harden against him, and knew that he would soon be ready again too, but –  
“Gellert – we need to –“

Gellert sucked one of Albus’ nipples into his mouth. Then the other one. Albus was fully hard by now, and Gellert was dragging his cock against Albus’.  
“Need? This – this is what we need, Albus.”  
“Yessss! Gods, yes – please, Gellert!”

Albus hadn’t forgotten what he had seen in Gellert’s eyes, but discussing it would have to wait.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Gellert was lying back in the bed, arms and legs spread out, looking completely wrecked. Relaxed, covered in sweat, one arm at an angle that would not be comfortable at any other time, strands of hair plastered against his forehead.  
He had never looked more beautiful to Albus.

“You are mine,” Albus said, his voice tinged with wonder. “How is it possible that you are mine?”  
Gellert didn’t answer with anything but a low moan. 

Albus smiled – he had done this. He had reduced Gellert to an inarticulate pile of immobility. He walked back to the bed and swiped Gellert’s neck with his tongue. He loved the salty taste of Gellert’s fresh sweat.

Albus felt the tug of a spell, and he was flying into bed next to Gellert. He had overestimated Gellert’s incapacity.

“Staaaaay –“ Gellert demanded sleepily, rolling over to throw an arm over Albus. And a leg.  
Before Albus could answer, Gellert was pouting.  
“Nooo! No, no, no. No trousers.”  
“Don’t you disappear my trousers, Gellert Grindelwald. I need to get back to London, and you need to get to sleep.”  
“Not sleepy!”  
“Not speaking in complete sentences!” Albus answered, barely holding in his laugh.

“Yes, I –“  
Albus waited. And waited.  
Finally, Gellert opened his eyes and said the word, “am.”  
His eyes fell shut again.

Albus kissed him on his nose.  
“Feeling defiant, are you?”,  
Gellert didn’t answer, but sleepily pulled his arm off of Albus and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.  
“Well done, Love,” Albus whispered. “Excellent sentence.”  
Albus gently lifted Gellert’s leg and rolled out from under him. He waited to see if he had woken Gellert, and when there was no further sound, he put his shirt back on and then walked out of Gellert’s bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. 

“Albus, dear!”  
“Bathilda! I wasn’t –“  
“You were expecting to raid the kitchen with no witnesses?”  
Albus smiled, “And now you have thwarted me, my old nemesis!”  
“I will accept nemesis, and take pride in thwarted, but ‘old’?”  
“Excellent point, Bathilda. I am far too young to have had an enemy for long enough for them to qualify as an ‘old nemesis.’”

Bathilda rolled her eyes.  
“Cheese, then? Or I can scramble you some eggs, or…”  
“Just a savoury biscuit or two would be fine.”  
“I very much doubt that, dear. Make yourself a cheese board. I have some brown bread and mustard in the pantry.”

He was surveying the contents of the pantry, his back to Bathilda, when she broke the silence.  
“So, you wiped Gellert out, did you?”  
Albus blushed. “We do more than just… you know,” he answered without turning to face her.  
Ah. There was the bread. Oh! Pickles.  
“I would hope so. Even you two would have a hard time keeping up that level of activity for three hours straight.”

Bathilda must have a ward that alerted her every time someone entered and exited the house. Good. She was an intelligent and powerful Witch, but that didn’t mean one should invite trouble.

Arms full, Albus began arranging items on the table. He sat and began spreading mustard on a slice of bread. He looked up at Bathilda.  
“Anyway, Gell’s out for the night, I’d say, if that’s what you are asking.”  
“Not even rising to my bait anymore. My little boy is all grown up.”  
Bathilda sniffed dramatically and wiped her dry eyes. Albus smiled. 

“I thought you were with your brother. What are you doing here, Albus?”  
“Besides… ‘you know’?” Albus said with a mischievous smile.  
Bathilda inclined her head.  
“Abe’s asleep. And we had an exhausting day, so – I needed, I guess –“

“You have become accustomed to not having to play a part for days on end.”  
“Maybe so, but some roles are easier to play than others. The people in Diagon Alley – what Black has done, turning my family into a symbol –“  
Bathilda looked at Albus appraisingly.  
“Yes, I daresay he is going to be very sorry he did that.”

That was exactly what he didn’t want to be thinking about right now. And besides, he had other things that he’d been meaning to talk with Bathilda about.

“So – you never married –“  
“Oh? Is that what you think?”  
“Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed – Were you? Married?”  
Bathilda laughed. “No. But if you are offering, I am going to have to decline to break my nephew’s heart.”

“Bathilda! Can we be serious, please?”  
“Yes dear, we absolutely can. I can remember at least four separate occasions…”  
Albus had never had any doubt that Gellert and Bathilda were family to one another. 

“I have a friend who is a – single woman who would like to remain single. But she doesn’t – Wait, no. First – how did you avoid marrying?”  
“These are very personal questions, Albus.”  
Albus met Bathilda’s eyes and raised an eyebrow.  
“Are you really wanting to get into a conversation with me about what constitutes _personal information?_ ”

“Settle down, dear. I simply want to know that you recognize that anything I say to you about my past and my personal life is mine only to share, and that I won’t have it becoming currency to you.”  
“You are asking if you can trust me.”  
“I am not asking. I am telling you that I am only telling you as much as I feel I can trust you with, and if there is information that I withhold, that is my decision to make, and no different from similar decisions you have made with respect to me.”

That seemed – more cynical than he was expecting. But fair.  
“Of course.”  
“Well, then, Albus - how long do you have?”  
“Perhaps an hour.”

“An hour. I am not going to answer the question you asked, exactly. I think the more important question here is, ‘how does one survive as a Witch with no husband?’ This usually requires family support, and perhaps your friend’s family would not support her? Would insist upon her marrying? So, the question becomes, how would she survive without the financial and legal protection that a father, husband, or brother would have provided?”  
Albus nodded.

“There are so many variables, Albus. Where does she live?”  
Albus worried his lip. He didn’t want to give Bozena away.  
“Germany?”  
Albus shook his head.  
“In Europe, east of Germany?”  
“Yes.”  
“In one of those countries where she has no legal rights, I imagine. Otherwise you wouldn’t be asking. Does she have any money of her own?”  
“No.”

“So she would need to move somewhere where she would be able to find work quickly, somewhere she would have the right to live by herself if she so desired, where she might find respect in spite of her gender… and where ‘running away’ from her father would not be considered an extraditable offense. Already we’ve narrowed it down to less than a dozen countries – assuming – she’s of age?”  
“She’s a year older than I am.”  
“And she is determined never to marry.”  
“Yes.”

“And we have not even begun to talk about her skills, about which languages she is proficient in… Albus, do you appreciate what a difficult problem this is?”

“She’s very bright, and – you do it – so I thought, in Britain at least – after all, Derwent was Headmistress, and that was in the 18th century!“  
“By that time she was a well-to-do prominent widow, Albus, with children married to influential people. She had been married for almost two decades before she became a Healer. She had the political, economic, and social power of her husband and her father behind her as she was building her career, as well as powerful connections of her own, thanks to the wealthy Pureblood circle that she was a part of.”

Albus had not been aware of any of that. He had just assumed that Witches were as well respected as Wizards in Britain – he had considered Headmistress Derwent to be evidence of that. It had not occurred to him that it had taken anything more than hard work and intelligence for her to rise to such a position.

“I did not have any of those advantages, besides the support of my parents. I was still living with them when I was thirty, because the only paying jobs I could find were as a file girl at the Ministry and so on.”  
“But you have a Mastery!”  
“I do now. But in 1850? No one wanted to give away one of the rare openings to study with a Charms Master to a girl. No – first you had to prove that you were worthy – which meant self-study, self-publication, learning to believe that every slammed door wasn’t a dead end, but simply a door that might open tomorrow. Knock again and keep knocking.  
“Bit by bit, I managed to get little stories published in the newspaper, and then when a reporter ‘took ill’, I was given the opportunity to interview a historian, and so then I had a proper article in my name.  
“After another interview, some Wizards started requesting me to be their interviewer, because they liked the ones I had conducted before. And then in 1862, I wrote a historical piece about the shifting balance of power between the Wizengamot and the Minister of Magic. That’s when I finally got enough attention that my inquiries began to be answered with ‘maybe’ instead of ‘no.’”

“And that was when you got your Mastery in Charms?”  
“No, dear. My Mastery is in Transfiguration. Charms had been my original area of interest, but that opportunity never materialized.”  
“I’m – so sorry.”  
“Well, it’s not your fault you’re a man, dear,” Bathilda said, patting his hand.

Albus could agree that that sounded terrifically difficult and unfair, but there was no need for her to be so patronizing about it.

“Things are different now. Your friend can get published in a journal without a Mastery, as you have seen yourself. And in French or English language journals, she can publish in her own full name. The German language journals… they don’t want to offend their readers in – Bohemia, for instance. Hungary, Ukraine, Albania. There are pockets of this idiocy in Prussia as well.”  
“So, you don’t publish in German?”  
“Oh, I do. But I publish as B. Bagshot. It’s quite a thin deception, really.”

“And if she wants to get a Mastery?”  
“Well – I’m assuming she went to Durmstrang?”  
Albus nodded.  
“So, she likely has no connections that will be helpful to her. Certainly no professors who will recommend her. Women are not treated as equals there.”

“Gellert complains about that _all the time._ ”  
Bathilda smiled. “He's such a good boy. I always did like him. Even when he was running off with my best quills. It seems like only yesterday – wait, no. It was only yesterday. Can you get him to stop stealing my quills? I'm sure he has his own.”

Albus rolled his eyes.  
“You know very well, Bathilda, that I only have but so much influence over him, myself.”  
“And that’s how we like him! Intractable! Still… perhaps I’ll curse a couple of quills…”  
Albus did not like the sound of that.  
“Is that really necessary? I’ll have him out of here the day after tomorrow.”

Bathilda sighed. “I suppose he can be spared. This time. But I got off track. Your friend – if a Mastery or some similar advanced training is what she wants, then she is going to need to publish first. Once she has been published, she can collect a couple of her articles, and then send them to a Potions Master, for instance, and request an interview. But in the meantime… she will probably be working at the reception desk at a hospital or something similar in order to pay her rent.”  
“Thanks, Bathilda.”

“Albus. This is a big world, with a lot of problems.”  
“I’m just wanting to help this one friend, I’m not trying to –“  
“You’re not trying to make the world better for all women everywhere? And all magical people everywhere? And all men who are in love with other men everywhere?”  
“We’re not trying to do it all at once. Is what I was going to say.”

“I just want you to understand that if you save one person, that is one person that wouldn’t have been saved without you. You and Gellert, I’m afraid you are judging yourselves on such a scale that even great achievements will be disappointing to you. If all you ever do is help Aberforth become a potions master and help Ariana be happy and help your friend escape her parents – even if all you ever do is love Gellert…”

“If I love Gellert, then we are going this way, Bathilda. Keeping Abe and Ariana, and even Otto happy will not be enough for him, and it is not enough for me either.”  
“I wasn’t saying that it needed to be –“  
Albus stood and collected the dishes.  
“It won’t be easy, understood.”  
He went to the sink and began washing the dishes by hand. They didn’t speak again until the kitchen had returned to the state it had been in before his snack.

“You’ll ask me, Albus? If there’s anything you think I can do to help you and Gellert? Or your friend?”  
“You’re doing _enough_ already. Giving us a place to stay, keeping our secret, visiting my sister…”  
“Albus – “  
“It’s fine, Bathilda. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

After their disagreement the evening before, Albus had been feeling uneasy about returning to Bathilda’s house. Which was perhaps just as well – his frustration with Bathilda distracted him from the real challenge: having Aberforth and Gellert within twelve feet of each other.

They had not been at Bathilda’s an hour before it had become obvious that taking Gellert and Aberforth together anywhere would impossible. Aberforth’s every word to Albus and to Gellert was hateful – the only kind words he had spoken since arriving were ‘thank you,’ said to Bathilda when she brought in their afternoon tea. 

Just before supper it had finally become too much for Albus. Gellert’s magic had been already crackling dangerously before Aberforth told Gellert, ‘It’s not only because you are a cock pocket...’  
Albus did not let him finish that thought, but grabbed Aberforth’s arm and immediately apparated them out of the parlour and into the forest. He had planned to wait out Aberforth’s temper, but when the words ‘man-cunt’ passed his lips, Albus sealed them shut, tied Aberforth to a tree, disillusioned him, and returned to Bathilda’s without him.

‘Where’s Aberforth?’ Bathilda had asked when Albus reappeared at the kitchen table.  
‘Thinking about what he has done,’ Albus replied. When supper was over, he made Aberforth a plate, retrieved him, and confined him to the kitchen.

Albus couldn’t make sense of it – he had thought that he and Aberforth had been fine during their time in London together – or, at least, better than they had been since they were small children. When he finally divined that it was a simple case of jealousy –

“’Divined?’ It’s not a feat of intellectual acrobatics to interpret, ‘He’s with you all the time and I haven’t seen you in ten months!’”  
“Fine, yes, Gellert. You are right. I didn’t figure anything out, particularly.”  
“So, he’s jealous. He’s also a miserable excuse for a human being. Why should he be rewarded for his malice? Why should he get what he wants?”  
“At this point? I don’t give a fuck what he wants. But I don’t want for either of us to have to live this way for the next five days.”  
Gellert was silent for a short time, looking at his shoe. He licked his thumb and rubbed at a small speck of dirt he had found marring the perfect shine. He looked up at Albus.  
“You are right, Schatz. I cannot argue with your reasoning. I will miss you, but – I think you should go without me.”

“Are you sure?”  
“Sure? Yes. Happy about it? No. But I don’t see a better way.”  
“But before, when I was going to Meteora –“  
“Right now, I am not concerned that you will find living with your brother to be more appealing than spending the rest of your life with me.”  
Albus laughed. “No, you are quite right not to be worried.”

“Besides, I would miss you if I went with you, too. You are not really my Albus when you are with him. Getting to spend time with you not being you is not worth the risk of perhaps killing your brother.”  
“Gellert!”  
“But give me tonight, Albus. If you can find somewhere else for him just for tonight – “

So Albus went to Aberforth's kitchen-prison with the terms of the treaty – Aberforth would spend one night alone in the hotel room he and Albus had stayed in together in London, and then he would have Albus all to himself for the next five days, gathering potions ingredients on their way to Meteora. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus and Aberforth sat in the small boat, watching the orange-red light of Stromboli pulse, the ash plume smudging the stars out of a portion of the sky.  
“You could have just apparated us directly to Greece,” Aberforth complained. “Brother Grigorios said that the freshness of the ash was important.”

“Brother Grigorios went on to say that it would be useless after a week – which is not at all the same as fifteen minutes,” Albus answered. “This is beautiful. Who knows when we will have a chance to see it again? Enjoy it.”

“Don’t you want to see _Gellert_?” Aberforth asked, sullenly.  
“Yes. Yes, I do. But – I don’t know when I will next have a chance to see you again, and I would like for you to give me a chance to enjoy that too.”  
“Enjoy thinking about not seeing me again?” Aberforth asked with a chuckle.  
“Arse,” Albus replied, kicking Aberforth’s boot. “I’ve had a good time with you, you know. Some of the time.”

“Harvesting the lavender together - that was an experience I would happily repeat,” Albus continued.  
They had almost seemed like real brothers in the lavender fields. Aberforth teased Albus about his technique, and corrected the way he was holding the sickle, but with laughter in his eyes. Albus had barely recognized him. Aberforth had looked more at home in those fields than he had ever looked in any of their family homes.  
“Lavender everywhere, for miles. I will never forget the scent, the colour – I wish I had the words for it.” 

Albus loved travelling. Everywhere he went there was something to see that could not be seen anywhere else, something to be tasted – something to be _smelled_ , even. But he could not say this to Aberforth, who could not forgive Albus for leaving Britain. 

“I was surprised when Longstreet suggested we go to Provence,” Aberforth confessed. “It isn’t as if we don’t grow lavender in England. But apparently the potency of the lavender grown there is better. I don’t know. I am going to have to learn more about soils and climates now, it seems.”  
Aberforth was truly serious about potions, Albus realized. He had found who he was while Albus was away. 

“I would like to go back one day,” Aberforth continued. “I had not known there were so many different kinds of Muggle lavender – and I hadn’t known there were any magical varieties. We don’t use lavender in any of our textbook potions.”

Now that Albus thought of it, that was true. He wondered why that was, when lavender was so readily available…  
“I am curious about what Brother Grigorios might teach you about how lavender interacts with other potions ingredients – so many potions would benefit from an improved taste or smell, but it is hard to know how to do that without altering the effectiveness. And potions ingredients are so expensive – I don’t like to experiment with them without a strong feeling that it is going to go well.”

“Albus. I thought we were just out here enjoying the volcano.”  
“I can watch a volcano erupt and talk about potions at the same time.”  
Aberforth groaned. “I knew it!”  
“What?!”  
“Can you not let me have anything of my own?”

“I don’t understand –“  
“You are always going to be better than me at everything!”  
“Are we talking about boats? Or potions? Or doing two things at once?”  
“Albus!”  
“Because I think you are probably better at boats than I am.”  
“Don’t change the subject!”

Albus sighed. “Aberforth. I have _never_ been better than you at everything. I’m a terrible cook, I’m not good with animals… But if we are talking about potions - you are definitely going to be better than me at potions one day – because you care about it – you are focusing on it. And you have always been exceptional at the things you care about.  
“Potions are – they’re fun for me, but I don’t spend a lot of time working on them. I’ve run a potions experiment exactly once since leaving school. You are going to spend all summer learning things that aren’t taught at Hogwarts. Do you know what that means? We still don’t know your OWL results, you have two years before you take your NEWTS - and by the end of the summer, you are going to know more about potions than I do.”

“Not if I tell you everything I learn!“  
“Aberforth, this is what scholars do – when Wizards respect one another, respect each other’s knowledge and learning, they discuss it. They are curious, they want learn something new from a colleague, someone they trust. I can’t possibly learn everything you learn this summer, even if you tell me. You will still be the expert for having been immersed in it.”

“So, you weren’t – trying to show off? Or – win, somehow?”  
“Win? No! I – gods, I don’t even know what that would mean.”  
In fact, Albus did know what that would mean, and he had played that game many times. But never with Aberforth. That game was to be played with people who thought they were more intelligent than they really were. Abe had the opposite problem. There was no need to take him down a peg… academically.  
“This is just – me being excited that we have something to talk about together.”  
Aberforth rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

They returned to silently watching the eruption. Or Albus did. Aberforth lay back in the boat to gaze at the stars.  
The regularity of the eruption astonished Albus. It wasn’t quite as steady as a heartbeat, but it reminded him of that somehow. As if this were the heart of the earth, beating. He had to come back. He wanted Gellert to see it.

Thinking of Gellert reminded Albus, oddly, that he was ignoring Aberforth. Then again, perhaps Aberforth wanted to be ignored. Did this count as spending time together, sitting in the same boat, looking in different directions?  
“Aberforth?”  
A snore was his only answer. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus and Aberforth arrived at Hagioi Magoi before morning prayer had ended. The climb was vying with Provence for best part of the trip, judging by Aberforth's mood. His aspect when they reached the top was almost triumphant looking.  
It could have been the view, or the novelty of it, but Albus suspected it was the exertion. There simply weren’t enough opportunities for exercise at Hogwarts. Manual labor and physical exertion of almost any kind were seen as Muggle – climbing hundreds of feet up a ladder, for instance, would be seen as demeaning by most Wizards. But Aberforth couldn’t be the only Wizard who needed more activity than the average magical life afforded. 

Aberforth was inspecting the tool shed when Brother Grigorios came into the garden.  
“Aberforth! So good to see you again.”  
Aberforth turned, blushing.  
“Brother Grigorios. Thanks for having me.”  
“I'm sure it will be a pleasure, Aberforth. I have been needing help in the garden and in the lab – and I have found that I miss teaching. Your visit is well-timed. My tool shed perhaps also needs reorganizing?”  
“Not at all, sir! I’m sorry, I was –“

“No need to apologize, Aberforth. We hold everything in common here. With the exception of the kitchen,” Brother Grigorios added, laughing. “Brother Vasyl is well named – he rules the kitchen absolutely. You will have to win him over if you wish to enter. You like to cook?”  
Aberforth nodded.  
“I thought perhaps. Every potions master I have known likes to garden and likes to cook. I would suggest you begin by praising his cooking. But be specific! He will suspect you of only trying to get your hands on his oven if you are overly general with your compliments.”

“But, what if –“  
“You need not worry that you will not like his cooking, I assure you! Ah, but I have been ignoring your brother.”  
Albus stood from the bench where he had been sitting, listening to Brother Grigorios welcome Aberforth. He was glad that the monk had known to focus so completely on his brother. Albus had been thinking about Aberforth’s outburst on the boat. It probably had been difficult to be Albus’ brother at Hogwarts – he was the best student in every subject, without exception. Some of Aberforth’s professors must have been thoughtless enough to openly compare him to Albus. 

“Brother Grigorios – it is good to see you again so soon.”  
“I wonder if you mean that Albus... Yes, I imagine you probably do. You are welcome here any time, of course, although I do not expect you will avail yourself of that offer very often. Your brother on the other hand," he turned to Aberforth. "I do hope that you find that you like it here, Aberforth. It is rare for me to have a student dedicated enough to come to me." 

Brother Grigorios returned his attention to Albus. “Thank you for bringing your brother to me. The three of us can meet together again after lunch. I would like to show Aberforth his room and the potions lab before I must leave him to observe the third hour.” Brother Grigorios turned back to Aberforth. “We will also need to go over the monastery’s schedule. It is even more rigid than the schedule at Hogwarts! Less rigid for you than it is for me, but I imagine knowing when I will be absent will be relevant to you.”

“I could – perhaps visit with Brother Basilius?” Albus suggested, trying to think of what to do with himself until lunchtime.  
“Thank you for your kindness, Albus, but no. I think it would be better for you to drop off your bags in the quarters you used last time.”  
“I – had not been planning to stay past suppertime, Brother Grigorios.”  
“Perhaps you will find that you would prefer to stay with us for a night before moving on.”  
“I don’t –“

Brother Grigorios cut Albus off with a stern look. “I do not have all morning to argue with you, Albus. Your brother requires my attention.”  
Albus sighed.  
“Yes, Brother Grigorios.”

Albus had just finished returning his bags to their usual size when the raven flew into the cave and transformed into his husband. Albus hadn't expected for Gellert to be at the monastery, but he didn't question it. He wanted only to hold Gellert, to reassure himself that he was really here, that they were really in the same place together at last. The moment Gellert’s feet struck the floor of the cave, Albus’ arms were around him.  
“I missed you terribly!”  
Gellert lifted Albus and spun him around.  
“Show me?”

Albus kissed Gellert - five days of missed kisses in one.  
Gellert gasped for air.  
“Outstanding! But – I meant –“  
“Legilimency? Not now, Love. There’s too much Aberforth in there, and I want to be here with you, just the two of us.”

Gellert kissed Albus again.  
“Me too. But –“ Gellert pulled away. “There is much to discuss, Albus.”  
That look, the same look that had been on Gellert's face the night that Albus had snuck away from Aberforth…  
“Something has happened.”  
“Not so much happened as – I’ve learned something.”  
Albus considered Gellert warily. “About the poisoning?”

“About many things, but yes. Notably I’ve learned something about how you came to be poisoned. I needed to speak with someone – with two someones – before I spoke with you about it. And I didn’t want to burden you when we were going to be so many days apart. I’m sorry for making you wait, Albus.”  
Albus became concerned.  
“Gellert – what have you done?”

“Hush. Don’t talk to me like that. I have done nothing, and I don’t want for us to argue.”  
Albus didn't want for them to argue either. Primarily he wanted to fuck, but... talking would work, too. Anything. There was nothing he hadn't missed about Gellert.  
"You're right, Gellert. I'm sorry.” Albus sat on the bed. "Tell me."  
Gellert frowned. “Not in bed today, Albus – it has been too many days since we last shared a bed.”

It was true. They had never been apart for so long. The ache was almost worse now that he had Gellert back - seeing him, holding him was a reminder of all that he had been missing. He needed every part of Gellert all at once. He needed to be able to share everything that had happened when they were apart. He needed – he simply needed Gellert.

“If I am holding you in bed, I won’t be able to focus on what I’m telling you. You – gods, it is as if I had forgotten just how gorgeous you are.”  
Gellert pulled Albus up to standing and began kissing him, all the time walking him towards the back wall of the cave. Finally his back hit the wall, and Albus laid a hand on the front of Gellert’s trousers. He began stroking Gellert's cock, and Gellert tipped back his head and moaned. He took both of Albus’ wrists in his hands and pinned them against the wall above Albus’ head.  
It had all happened so quickly, in an almost uncontrolled frenzy. Albus' head was empty of anything but the refrain of 'so good, so good, so good..'  
Albus broke the kiss only long enough to groan into Gellert’s mouth before returning to the work of devouring him. Gellert pressed himself more closely against Albus and let go of his hands. Albus took advantage of this new freedom, tangled one hand in Gellert's hair and grabbed his arse with another.  
"Albus! Yes! Please - I -"

Then suddenly, Gellert stepped away. 

He looked down at Albus' feet and ran his hand through his hair before looking up at Albus.  
“I’m sorry, Albus. We shouldn't – I meant not to - “  
“Clearly, the bed is not the only place where we will not be able to focus, Gellert. What’s one more hour? Whatever it is you have to say, can't it wait?"  
Gellert groaned softly.  
Albus stepped towards Gellert, taking that groan as evidence that Gellert was nearly persuaded to finish what he had started. But Albus had been known to be wrong, on occasion. 

“Please, Love. Speaking to one another is also something we have not done for many days, and I have missed that also. It has been difficult to keep this new information from you for so long.”

Now that Albus thought about it, it must have taken a great deal of discipline for Gellert to save the conversation until now. He remembered the summer before, how often Gellert had felt the need to interrupt his time with Aberforth in order to simply share his thoughts about the meaning of some rune or another.

“Of course.” He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Gellert. He rubbed their noses together. “I love you. I am sorry that you have had to wait. Where shall we go?”  
“The monastery seems the one safe place. No one will be in the Scriptorium right now – they are all at prayers. And neither of us would – “  
That was clever. Albus smiled. Gellert had managed to find a use for a community of covenantal celibates. How things could change in just three weeks! 

Suddenly Albus wondered – how long had Gellert been here? Had he just arrived today looking for Albus, or was this familiarity with the monastery something he had learned over the past couple of days, living with the monks without recourse to Albus for company? What had Gellert been doing when they were apart? Who were these ‘two someones’ Gellert had told before telling Albus? Was one of them here? Both of them?  
Yes, he was too curious for sex after all.

After a very brief tour of the Scriptorium, Gellert leaned against what was apparently his ‘usual desk,’ and Albus stood some distance away.

“The night you came to visit me, and I fell asleep on you a couple of hours before you had to leave? It was - I had not slept at all the night before.”  
“Gellert!”  
“Do not worry, Liebling. It was not because of you not being there. Or, it was mostly not for that reason. I did sleep this past week without you. Not well, but much more than not at all.  
“No, I was visited by Otto’s personal elf, Löwenzahn.”

Albus stiffened.  
“Oh, Liebling, I’m so sorry. I did not think this through. Do we need to go someplace where I can hold you?”  
“I don’t think – it is alright Gellert. I can – go ahead, please.”

Gellert sighed. “I am needing to apologize more, now. I was dismissive of some of your concerns, and – it turned out that you were right about many things. The poisoning - it was my father. You were right about that. But you were also right that he doesn’t want to poison me – that would be too easy for him. The poison was meant for you. It wasn’t a mistake.”

Gellert turned away, grabbed a piece of parchment, and twisted it in his hand.  
“Albus! Gods, if it were not for me –“  
“If it were not for you, I would not know what it is to be happy or loved, I would not know what it is to love you – no, Gellert. Don’t go down that road again. Please.”

Gellert met Albus’ eyes.  
“I love you so much.”  
“I know. I know you do. I love you too. And we are going to figure this out – together. I am glad you have me – I don’t want you to ever have to face him alone.”

Gellert looked down. “That’s exactly his plan. He wants me to have to live without you, to know that you only died because you belonged to me. And then he wants to kill me – just, not right away. He wants me to suffer first.”  
“Gellert!”

Albus stepped closer before he remembered where they were. He backed up again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. He opened his eyes and looked down at his hands, igniting a flame at the end of each fingertip, one by one. Not long before they left, he had finally found a Wizard in Constantinople who could teach him the spell. With a twist of his wrist he extinguished the flames and looked back up at Gellert.  
“Continue.”  
“Facing him alone, you said. He had – already been trying to isolate me. Sending me away before Otto returned from school, killing Zinnie.”  
“What?!”

Gellert turned away from Albus, began pacing like a tiger patrolling the perimeter of a cage.  
“Remember how I said – no, how I showed you – I didn’t remember doing it? Not completely? I had thought – obviously that was just the result of losing control of my killing urge. But no. Father had a potion, it was – like an Imperius. I can fight an Imperius, but a potion – you don’t know it is being done to you – it sneaks up on you. I didn’t know there was such a potion, I didn’t – “  
“Gellert –“

“Understand, I can’t say for sure that I wouldn’t have killed her. I don’t know. This is – I haven’t thought it all through yet. I was studying human sacrifices on my own, that was me. I think. The earliest sacrifices, that was all me, of that much I am sure. Whether the thought of calculating if a house elf – but the rest was me, not my father, probably. So many uncertainties! Eventually, I might even have – no, it doesn’t matter. In the end, it wasn’t me. My father manipulated me into killing Zinnie without me knowing he had anything to do with it.  
“That’s why the elves felt sorry for me. They – they actually did know that I had done it. But they didn’t blame me. They blamed – still blame my father. But they couldn’t tell me, because I didn’t know to ask, and they serve my father first of all. They can serve any Grindelwald, but only if asked.”  
"So how, then...?"  
"Personal elves are an exception of sorts. Mother gifted us each a personal elf when we were born. An elf that would provide for our wellbeing always, and answer only to us. Otto ordered Löwenzahn, 'tell Gellert everything he needs to know,' and... Löwenzahn had several hours' worth of information that he thought I needed to know." 

This was – Albus didn’t know how to absorb it. He had thought of Gellert’s father as chiefly a physically violent man. This kind of psychological torture – the man was more dangerous than he had thought. What else had he done to Gellert? To Otto?  
To Otto!  
“Gellert! Did Otto's elf tell you – is he safe?”  
“Fortunately, all of Father’s attention is focused on me at the moment. No, not all of his attention. There are a few political enemies he is also pursuing, but – no… I asked Löwenzahn, and he said Otto was fine. He would know. Elves always know.”  
Or he might lie to protect Gellert, or to protect Otto – to prevent Gellert from making a bad situation even worse. But it would only hurt Gellert more to say so.

“Gellert, are you… should we…”  
Albus trailed off, because there was no way to finish that sentence. He wanted to say something comforting, but could think of nothing. He could think only of killing Lord Grindewald. And of taking his knowledge for himself. Would this mind-manipulation potion work on Muggles? Perhaps it had a different mechanism than the Imperius curse. And his potions knowledge… Gellert’s father was hateful, dangerous, an enemy – but in addition to all of that, he was small-minded. Using these sorts of weapons for sadism and petty revenge?

“Albus, do not say it. Not leaning against Brother Iosif's desk. This talk, it doesn't belong here.”  
“Don’t say what? I can’t begin to think what to say.”  
“You weren’t going to suggest we kill my father?”  
He had not been going to suggest that they kill him, no. Albus had been going to kill Gellert’s father all by himself, without prior discussion.

“That wasn’t my first thought, no.”  
Gellert stopped pacing and regarded Albus.  
“No, your first thought was that my father was even worse than you thought. Your next thought was to wonder if Otto was safe. And _after that_ , you thought of killing my father. Or you thought of what you might like to do with all of his research. Perhaps that, then killing my father, instead of the other way around.”

Albus felt all the blood drain out of his face. This was – this was more intimate than Legilimency. He hadn’t thought anything could be more intimate than that, but this – Gellert knew his thoughts _even without looking at them_.  
This was – terrifying. Albus turned his eyes towards the indecipherable documents on Brother Iosif’s desk, trying to keep the tears from falling.

“Albus?”  
Gellert had moved beside him and looked at him with concern.  
“What did I – what is it, Liebling?”  
“You – how did you do that?”  
Gellert didn’t answer for a while. When he broke the silence, it was to mutter, “This was perhaps a mistake.”  
He turned and began to walk away, calling over his shoulder. “Out. We have been here more than long enough.”

The climb down the ladder was interminable. Step, step, step. It was too far. Albus stopped and began examining a rung. He ran his hand over the vertical rope that held each rung in place. Did a rope ever snap? How many monks over the years had fallen into the abyss? How often had it not been an accident?

“Albus?” He heard Gellert’s voice coming from below. “It isn’t much farther, Liebling. Please –“  
Albus didn’t answer. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice breaking. But he began moving again. He had only been 8 steps from the cave. 

Gellert took Albus’ hand and pulled him into the cave and straight to their bed. He held Albus tightly to him and began running his fingers through his hair.  
“I love you. I love you, Albus. I’m never going to hurt you – Well, no. I am going to hurt you. I just did. But only ever by accident.”

Albus nodded, keeping his face smashed against Gellert’s chest. 

“I promise never to do that again, My Heart.”  
“Which part?” Albus asked, confused.  
“Talk about serious things in a place where we cannot touch each other. That was a disaster.”

A disaster. Albus laughed brokenly. The laugh turned into a sob, and the sob turned into shouting which was replaced by more sobbing. He probably looked ridiculous with the tears streaming down his face, and for what? Why was he even crying?  
He couldn’t be less attractive, he was sure – between the snot and the tears and the puffy eyes and the red blotchiness of his face… But Gellert didn’t look at all disgusted. Instead he was smiling – weakly, his whole face an apology. 

This was not how Albus had imagined their reunion.

Gellert leaned back, until he was lying down with Albus on top of him. Albus listened to the steady beating of Gellert’s heart as Gellert rubbed his back. 

“You are everything to me, Albus. I – I should have started there. Should have started with anything but that news.”  
“You haven’t even told me everything yet,” Albus added, accusingly.  
“No, there is too much. It was already too much. I could have saved it. Saved it and you could have told me about Stromboli and whatever else you saw, and I could have told you funny stories about Brother Iosif, and we could have made love. That would have been a better start.”

Albus lifted up his head and smiled crookedly. “We are all doing our miserable best, here.”  
Gellert's lip quirked. "Our miserable best? Do I make you miserable, Love?"  
"I'm just saying, it's not like I haven't hurt you. Often."  
Gellert sighed. “I love you, Albus. You know that right?”  
“Always. I never doubt it.”  
Or, at least, he never doubted it anymore. 

Albus bent down to kiss Gellert.  
“I love you too. Do you suppose – can we just skip lunch? I think I need – maybe I need to hear one of these funny stories about Brother Iosif.”  
“Of course, Albus. Can we – can I hold you? Maybe – curl up behind you?”

Albus rolled off of Gellert, and turned so he was facing away from him on his side. Gellert disappeared his shirt and Albus’ shirt and pressed his chest tightly against Albus’ back. Then he threw an arm over him, pulling him still closer. He pressed his lips to Albus’ back and held them there for several seconds. Then he nuzzled into Albus’ back.

“I promise,” Gellert began, “I promise that I do not know every thought in your head. I don’t. But I do know you. After all this time, of course I know you. Loving you – that means wanting to know everything about you. Observing, remembering. You can trust me, Albus.”  
“I know. I – I don’t know why it bothered me – it’s not like you haven’t done that before.”  
“Hmm. I hadn’t done it before without touching you. Without you having the physical reassurance that I love you.”

That might have been part of the reason. But Albus had already been too broken in too many other ways before they got to that part of the conversation. 

“Your father, Gellert – how are you still alive? It makes no sense. I could have lost you before I ever met you! When I think… I know you are here now, that you escaped his house, but I am still so frightened for you. That man, he keeps hurting you, over and over again. Why? How could anyone do these things to their own child? He is – “

“He is a terrible man. You are right. But whatever we do about him, we will do it together.”  
“Whatever we –“  
“We need to be smart about it.”  
“Smart about it… Are you –“  
“Don’t make me say it, Albus. Not here. Not at the monastery. Not when I’ve not even had time to relearn your body, to share every good thing that has happened when we were apart, to fall asleep with you and wake up still tangled up with you in the morning… Ask me tomorrow. Please, Liebling.”  


“Yes, fine,” Albus agreed. “Tomorrow. But today – we have about another hour before I have to be back up at Hagioi Magoi to make arrangements for Aberforth’s transportation back to London, and so on.”  
“That is more than enough time for me to tell you about life at the monastery. I arrived three days ago…”

While he spoke, Gellert slowly stroked Albus’ knuckles with his thumb, and paused periodically to drop kisses on Albus’ back. In Gellert’s arms, Albus could almost imagine that they truly were safe, and that everything was going to be fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me - let me know what you think!


	38. Exchange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back, and I am hopeful that I will be going back to regular updates – thanks for your patience!

Chapter 35  
July 1900

They had only just stepped into the cave when Gellert took Albus in his arms and began devouring him. Mouth, cheeks, neck, ears, jaw – no part within reach of Gellert’s mouth was safe from the onslaught.  
Albus moaned. “I missed you. Gods, gods, need you –“  
Gellert growled inarticulately and pulled Albus onto the floor with him. 

They kissed and grabbed and wrestled until Albus had Gellert pinned to the floor. He ground against Gellert slowly and Gellert moaned.  
“Albus –“  
Albus, cast a cushioning charm on the floor, and conjured a blanket beneath Gellert. Urgent or not, the cave floor was impossible to keep free of dirt.

Another groan, and Gellert pulled Albus down to kiss him and kiss him until they could hardly breathe, bucking up against Albus, hands everywhere.  
Albus was just as frantic, and soon his grip was so tight on Gellert’s shoulder that he feared he was leaving bruises, even through the layers of clothing. 

“Gellert! I’m going to –“  
“Don’t stop, don’t stop… Gods! Albus!”  
Albus had no intention of stopping. Even after they had finished, Albus rocked a couple of more times, more slowly, as if he couldn’t quite stop moving… Until he did. 

Gellert laughed. “When’s the last time we made each other come in our trousers?”  
Albus propped himself up on one arm and smiled. “I don’t know. When’s the last time we went without seeing one another for five days?”

Never. Never since meeting one another had they been apart for so long.  
As for making each other come like this – the last time had been almost a year ago. Two weeks ago, it would have seemed too juvenile to contemplate, but now - it was no wonder they hadn’t found the patience to remove one another’s clothing – here it was after supper, and they were only just now getting around to satisfying their growing urge to possess one another. 

This had felt far better than Albus had remembered. Certainly good enough to be an option when they were at some public function and couldn’t risk even unbuttoning a fly. Albus moaned softly at the thought of it – pushing Gellert up against a wall in a hallway in some manor house. Or in some foreign ministry. Grinding against him…

“I missed you,” Gellert said, wrapping his arms around Albus and drawing him out of his fantasy and into a long slow kiss. Albus was too hungry for Gellert to allow such a leisurely pace. The kiss intensified, becoming frenzied, until Gellert at last broke away to say one word: “More.” 

Albus pulled away and stood up, a look of mischief in his eyes.  
“If you want more, you are going to have to catch me!”

He transfigured into an owl and flew out into the night, then down, down, until he was under the canopy of the leaves, silently weaving through the trees. He heard the sound of his raven calling, not so far behind him. If owls could smile, he would have. Soon he would allow Gellert to catch up to him. Albus couldn’t wait to see what his punishment would be for flying away with no warning.

By 2am, Albus realized that they were going to have to stay one more night at the monastery. They were going to be too drowsy to travel safely come morning - if they continued in this way they might still be awake when the sun rose. Since the moment they had returned to the cave, they had not been able to stop talking, and touching one another, and gazing at one another, and kissing, and talking some more. It was as if they were trying to make up for a week’s worth of separation in one evening.

Albus shared all about his travels with Aberforth, and Gellert told him about his work in the Scriptorium, and the time he had spent in London – he had been to a Muggle theatre, and to the National Gallery, and to morning prayer at St. Paul’s Cathedral. 

“Morning prayer?” Albus had asked.  
“It was an accident. I was just there for the art. But since I was there, I listened.”  
“And?”  
“Prayers are better in Greek, when I can’t tell what they’re saying.”  
Albus smirked.

“How many days were you there?” Albus asked.  
“Just two. I spent three days here at the monastery.”  
“Why London? I had hoped – “

‘I had hoped to go there with you,’ Albus had almost said. He had specifically suggested St. Paul’s and the National Gallery when they were in London together. He had never been to either, and he had thought Gellert would enjoy them too. And now Gellert had gone first, without him.  
Albus knew he was being unfair. Gellert had only known to go those places because Albus had mentioned them. Perhaps he knew of no other Muggle places to go, on his own. Besides, they had both seen things that they would have rather seen with one another – they always preferred to be together. No matter where Gellert had gone, Albus would have liked to have been there. Focusing his jealousy on where precisely Gellert had been was irrational. 

Still – why London?  
Gellert didn’t answer right away. He ran his fingers through his hair and grasped it tightly near his scalp the way he did when… he was nervous. Why was he nervous? What was he hiding?  
“Gellert,” Albus said, a bit of sternness leaking into his voice, “ _why London?_ ”

“Well –“ Gellert cleared his throat, “I figured I might as well explore London as long as I was already there. To – where is that fucking owl?”  
“What owl? Isolde is right here!”  
“No there’s – there’s an owl I have been waiting on all day. Never mind.”

Albus waited, a hard look on his face.  
“I was – umm – I was in London to see your sister. Primarily.”

“Gellert Grindelwald!” Albus leapt out of bed and gestured at Gellert accusingly. “After having commanded me to never contact your brother without your knowledge…”  
“That is not true – I asked you not to talk to him about house elves. And food.”  
“Oh yes, let’s not get Otto into trouble by asking him to speak to a house elf. Far more dangerous than talking to my sister about _a plot to take my life!”_  
“Fine, Albus. I was wrong about Otto. I should have let you talk to him. I can’t imagine there is anything we know about Father that he doesn’t know himself, now. Otto is sure to have ordered Löwenzahn to tell him everything that he told me. And if he knows about that, then how can I complain about -”

Gellert had not even denied that he had told his sister what Otto's elf had said!  
“That was not my point! My point was –“  
“Severely weakened by my concession, I’d say. And it is further weakened if we consider Ariana’s Legilimency. Are neither of us ever supposed to visit her again? You know she would have seen it anyway. Besides, what can she do from St. Mungo’s?“  
“What can she do?! That is an excellent question! Neither one of us knows what she is capable of. She is a complete mystery to us both!”

Albus was beside himself. Would Ariana try to leave the hospital? Would she succeed and wander off to who knew where? Bavaria perhaps? What might Lord Grindelwald do to her? What might she do to him? What if Otto tried to stop her and she hurt him?  
Or would she have an outburst of accidental magic in the hospital? Yes, she had seemed in control during their visit, but this was sure to be upsetting news for her. How would she react? Her magical power was extraordinary.  
Who might she tell – or accidentally reveal the information to? Simply being a Legilimens did not imply being an Occlumens as well. She clearly hadn’t been able to Occlude before last summer, or she would have been able to protect herself from the onslaught of voices. Or at least, he imagined Occlusion would have helped. Was Occlusion something that a person could master without long practice? Without instruction? 

“I just thought – “  
“Did you though? Did you _think_ , Gellert? Or did you –“  
“SHUT UP!!” Gellert roared. 

Albus looked stunned.  
Gellert got out of bed, pulled on his shirt, and began pacing.  
“Just – maybe you wish I hadn’t done it, but it’s done. I can’t undo it.”  
That was – true. Yelling wasn’t changing anything. Whatever damage had been done was in the past. 

“Would you like to _know_ what we talked about? Or would you rather just yell at me some more about having talked to her _at all?_ ”

An owl appeared at the mouth of the cave.  
“Oh, very nice,” snarked Gellert. “ _Now_ you arrive. You are late, you lazy bird.”  
Isolde hooted at the intruder indignantly, as if echoing her master. 

Albus raised an eyebrow. “Late?”  
Gellert ignored the question.  
Instead he said, “It’s for you,” without even looking at the envelope.  
Albus took the parchment, absently gave the owl a treat, and prepared to send it on its way.  
“You don’t want to send a reply?” Gellert asked.  
“Fine,” Albus huffed. “Wait a minute, owl.”

He read the letter:  
_Dear Albus,  
We had porridge for breakfast again. This makes three days in a row. Too much porridge! Bathilda visited yesterday. I like her. I hope that you and Aberforth are well.  
Love, Ariana_

And on the other side:  
_Go easy on him, Albus. He loves you. Anyone who would kill his own father for you is worth keeping. Not that you have a choice now that you’ve bonded yourself to him. Idiots the both of you. This is in your hands, but before defending my innocence, remember that I have heard much worse for years. Some from your own head, brother. Listen to him. And come see me when you are next in London – I miss you already. Everyone is so boring here. Except for Healer Jenkins. But you will have to come back and see me if you want to know why she’s so interesting. Your Dove, always._

“Well. This is convenient timing.”  
“Not really. It was supposed to be here twelve to sixteen hours ago.”  
“That’s a rather narrow target to hit for an owl coming from London.”  
“Isolde could do it – couldn’t you beautiful?”  
Albus doubted that even Isolde was capable of punctuality at such a distance, but both she and Gellert would take that as a personal affront, so Albus let Gellert’s praise of his owl pass with comment.

“I was planning to tell you about Ariana right away, but –“  
“So, you not only told my sister that your father is trying to kill me, but you then convinced her to soften me up for you.”  
“That was her idea, actually. Myself, I did not think that you would lose your temper to that extent.  
“More idiot, me,” Gellert added, muttering, “if I had thought at all about how irrational you were about that trace on Aberforth.”

Irrational! Albus had forgotten what that argument had been about until now, but putting a trace on his brother… seemed in retrospect like far less of an overstep than speaking to his sister about what Löwenzahn had told Gellert.

“Your sister insisted that she needed to smooth the way, because otherwise you were likely to try to do me bodily harm without any regard for how much blood you yourself might lose over it.”  
No, Albus would never cause Gellert physical injury, no matter how angry he was. Himself, their possessions, maybe, though it hadn’t come to that yet. Yelling, yes, in circumstances like these. But physical harm? Albus couldn’t have done such a thing at any point, but after having seen what his father had done to him? Never. Never.  
“Love – I couldn’t –“  
“Shh – I know, Albus. I knew already she was exaggerating.”  
Albus nodded. They stood there in silence for a little bit. 

Albus sat on the bed heavily, and Gellert came to sit beside him. He tentatively picked up Albus’ hand with his own, and Albus looked down at their hands where they were joined and sighed. He may as well get on with forgiving Gellert. He was sure to do it soon enough anyway.

“You wanted to speak to her before you spoke to me. Why?”  
Gellert squeezed his hand. “Albus, Love. You – you have so often done things or thought about doing things… impulsively?” 

Albus bristled, but quickly deflated. Gellert sounded subdued. Tentative. He had been worried about Albus, and worried about sharing his worry.  
And it had been true that Albus’ first thought had been how to kill Gellert’s father without Gellert knowing it had been him.

“I wanted help knowing how to tell you without you withdrawing from me, without you becoming secretive and trying to take on my father by yourself. It’s – when you do that – never mind, that part doesn’t matter…”

It did matter. He had hurt Gellert, and Gellert had begun to not trust him – he had begun to see this as a pattern of behaviour that he didn’t know how to mitigate.

“It’s just in this case – my father is – I didn’t want to lose you. _Don’t_ want to lose you and –“  
“I won’t, Gellert. I promise I won’t take him on without you.”  
“I – ok,” Gellert replied. “Good. I wonder, though, if I hadn’t…  
“Ariana said that the key was anticipation – that I had done well to know how upset you would be about Father – and that you would share your feelings with me more readily if I made it clear that my feelings were the same.  
“I – you’ve been hiding things from me out of fear that I would stop you. I won’t stop you, Albus. I don’t want you to – I won’t stand in your way. We may argue, but – but ‘I will never deny you the liberty to feel what you feel, to need what you need. I will never force my needs and wants on you. In our every disagreement, we will disagree as equals’ – all of that Albus – I vowed every word of that. I meant it when I said it in Paris, and I still mean it. I know that I sometimes disagree with you… forcefully, let’s say? But I will not stand between you and the door. Don’t shut me out, Love. I need to know what you are thinking and feeling more than I need to agree with your every action. Even when it means that our paths diverge.”

“But you agree –“  
“About this, I agree. There is no way to – you know how I feel about murder, but my father –“  
“Has likely killed many wizards, and will kill many more if he is not stopped.”  
And he had hurt Gellert repeatedly. Gellert might not think that retribution was a suitable reason for killing a person, but -  
Gellert shook his head. “I only really care about stopping him from killing you, Albus.”  
Gellert got off of the bed and knelt in front of Albus, laying his head in his lap.  
“I can’t lose you, Albus. I will do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.”

Albus carded his fingers through Gellert’s hair.  
There was too much to say. He was frustrated that it had taken speaking to Ariana for Gellert to understand what Albus needed from him, ashamed that his own secretiveness had driven Gellert to go to Ariana before speaking to him, frightened of losing Gellert if their plans to kill his father went wrong, embarrassed that it hadn’t occurred to him that Gellert might have been afraid of losing Albus in the same way… but most of all, he was overwhelmed with love for Gellert – with a desire to protect him and shelter him, and to reassure him that they would never be parted. The realization that he couldn’t make any such promises was frightening. For the first time since he had been poisoned, he was struck by how close he had been to dying. And he was still processing what a formidable opponent Gellert’s father would be. Gellert’s power and intelligence had not emerged out of thin air.

“Come back up here,” Albus whispered. “Hold me?”  
Gellert came back onto the bed and lay on his back, and Albus vanished his shirt and wrapped his body around Gellert’s. He clung to him – there were few things more comforting than the feel of Gellert’s skin against his own, warm and smooth. The hum of his magic, his familiar scent, the sound of his heart beating.  
Gellert wrapped his arms around Albus and held him tightly – but not so tightly as to be uncomfortable. Perfect. No, almost perfect. As well as he could do without the Elder Wand, Albus blanketed them in his magic, in a comforting aura, an intangible lullaby that sang of safety and love and trust.

“Hmm –“ said Gellert. “That feels nice. Well done, Albus.”  
“Sleep?”  
“There’s still too much to say –“  
“Let’s say it when we wake? It won’t do any harm to stay here one more day.”  
Gellert yawned. “In the morning, then.”

Almost immediately, Gellert was asleep, and before long, Albus followed him. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

After the long separation and the stress of all of the revelations of the day before, their morning was spent reassuring one another and reverently attending to one another’s bodies. They left dressing for lunch until the last possible moment, clinging to the remains of the morning by revisiting their travels over the past almost-year. Distracted by preparing for Aberforth’s summer, they had neglected to make plans for their own. They still hadn’t decided where they would go when they left Meteora.

“There’s so much to see everywhere – can we go back to one of the places we’ve visited already? I feel like we haven’t really stayed long enough anywhere we’ve been.”  
“Except Paris.”  
Albus laughed. What was it with Gellert and Paris? He was overwhelmed with affection. He wanted to kiss Gellert senseless, but then they would miss lunch.  
“Fine, not Paris. Now, Lovely, out of bed.”

Gellert groaned. “Can’t you just bring the food down to me?”  
“Why should _I_ get dressed if _you_ don’t?”  
“Because lunch matters more to you?”  
Albus picked up the Elder Wand. With it, he lifted Gellert up out of the bed and transported him until he was standing next to his trunk.

“You get hungry as well as I do. But even if lunch does matter more to me, I matter to you, and you wouldn’t want to give me the idea that I am just a delivery service.  
“Besides –“ Albus hurried to add before Gellert could reply, “Don’t you want to get to sit at the table with Aberforth? In the presence of all of those monks, he will be forced not to make a single derisive comment. He can’t even make faces at you. Tormenting my brother with compulsory civility – would you really pass up on that?”  
Gellert grinned at Albus. “Now _that_ is a _compelling_ argument!”

The morning had been luxurious, and lunch had been both delicious and entertaining, but there were still too many questions that had not been answered, and some of them could not be put off. If Löwenzahn had spoken to Gellert all night, then clearly Gellert had much more to convey to Albus than he had done so far.

That afternoon, lying on conjured cushions under the trees, Gellert stretched out the last moments of their so far idyllic day, pointing out the birds, the gentle curve of one branch, the twisted arm of another. Finally, he fell silent. Albus wished that he could keep talking in this way, that the world could really be so simple, but he knew that it wasn’t – it never had been, and it was not simple now, especially. There had been an edge of anxiety to every gentle moment since they had awakened. A tension, as when the birds are eerily quiet before a storm.  
Albus didn’t know where to begin. He waited.

Gellert spoke.  
“What do you want to know most of all?”  
“I want to know that I can keep you safe always.”  
Gellert rolled onto his side and kissed Albus on the cheek.  
“You know what I mean, Liebling.”  
Albus did know. What he did not know was what was most important.  
He closed his eyes and thought. They were in such danger. Why?

“Gellert – why does your father hate you so much?”  
Gellert sighed.  
“Well, it could just as easily have been Otto. Father gets angry when he is drunk.”  
Yes, he did, but Gellert's father had injured him plenty of times when he was sober, as well.  
“Could it? Just as easily have been Otto? Would he have _shot_ Otto?”  
“That was a drunken accident.”

It certainly had _not_ been an accident.  
“Fine. But would he have pushed Otto down the stairs? Broken Otto’s bones? Would he have manipulated Otto in the ways he manipulated you?”  
“Manipulated, yes. The rest… I don’t know, Albus. What do _you_ think? You ask as if you already have the answer.”  
“I don’t. Not really. But it seems your father needs an heir, for one. Unless he doesn’t care about that. Or unless he plans to kill your mother and start over. But Löwenzahn insists Otto is safe. If we believe him.”

Gellert quietly held Albus.  
“Löwenzahn says that my father doesn’t believe that I am his. He accused my mother of – of me having a father other than him.”  
“Did your father ever say that to you?”  
“Not exactly – he would say ‘you are no son of mine,’ but I never thought he meant it literally.”

Albus hesitated to ask, but it seemed important to know.  
“And? _Are you_ his son?”  
“I look like him, for one. And Löwenzahn said that Zinnie always insisted that my mother was faithful. He said Zinnie would have known.”

“So why…”  
“It’s – fuck. It’s my eyes. My father said that there had been no one with eyes like that in his family or my mother’s family, so I must be someone else’s. Then later, when he learned I was a seer, he said that was more proof, because there were no seers in his family either.  
"Zinnie always told me that being a seer was a gift, a mystery. She must have known – she was trying to tell me it wasn’t hereditary. She also said that my eyes were this way because of my gift, that seers all carried a physical marker of some kind or another. Some feature that the ignorant might find repellent, but the wise would find beautiful for its singularity.”  
Albus decided that he adored Zinnie. He was sorry never to have met her. His rage at Gellert’s father, which had seemed boundless before, was still growing – how dare he snatch this motherly elf from Gellert, and make Gellert think that he had done it himself?

“So – liberating you must have been part of his plan all along? He wouldn’t have wanted you to inherit if he thought you weren’t his.”  
“Liberating me or disinheriting me, I suppose. Or killing me. You are right. It is surprising that I lived.”  
Gellert said this dispassionately, as if he had long ago come to terms with the possibility that his father might kill him by accident - or on purpose - and not be moved by his death at all.

Albus transformed into a lynx and began pacing around in an agitated manner. He laid his paws on Gellert’s chest and prodded him.  
“No, Albus. We are not going out on a hunt. Not now.”  
Albus returned to himself and shouted. He walked to a nearby tree and beat his knuckles bloody. 

He felt Gellert wrap himself around him and take his wrists in his hands.  
“Stop. Stop. It’s ok.”  
“None of this is ok!”  
“Ok, yes. None of this is ok.”  
Did Gellert truly believe that? He sounded as if he were simply placating Albus by agreeing with something he deemed inessential. 

“You shouldn’t have grown up with him Gellert! You should have had – anything better than that.”  
“Should or shouldn’t, I did grow up with him. But I also grew up with mother, and Otto, and Zinnie… It isn’t that I had no love at all. And now I have you.”  
Not if Gellert’s father had anything to say about it.

“Come back, Love. Sit with me. I can heal your hands…”  
“Healing them would make having injured them less satisfying. As you yourself know.”  
“I do not hurt myself, Albus.”  
Not physically, no. Except by accident, or as a consequence of hurting someone else.

Albus laughed hollowly. “No. You only destroy property. And when I fix it sometimes you break it again.”  
“That is not the same. I don’t like you injuring yourself, Albus. When you do this – do you not think that this would make my father happy? To see you make yourself bleed on his account?”

Albus saw Gellert’s point, but he did not agree. However, it did not seem worth arguing over, so he took the Elder Wand out of his holster and handed it to Gellert so that he could use it to heal his hands. They returned to the cushions. Gellert cleaned the wounds and then set the Wand aside. He took Albus’ hands in his. He kissed each wound in turn, gently sucking the knuckle into his mouth and running his tongue over it. When he pulled his mouth away, he admired the now undamaged skin and pressed the place where the wound had been gently to his lips one more time before moving on to the next. When there were no more wounds, Gellert turned his attention to Albus’ lips. The faint taste of Albus’ blood was in Gellert’s mouth. Albus wanted never to stop kissing him, this man who loved him so much.

Through it all, Gellert continued to hold Albus’ hands, running his thumbs over Albus’ knuckles as if reassuring himself that he was whole now. He pulled back and met Albus’ eyes.  
“I love you, Albus Dumbledore. You are life to me.”  
Their eyes remained locked for several long seconds before Gellert looked away and scanned the clearing, his eyes finally, unaccountably lingering in one spot.  
“That woodpecker there is interesting,” Gellert observed, as if out of nowhere. “What do you think?”

What did Albus think? Of a woodpecker? He _thought_ it was a bit insulting that Gellert could be distracted by a bird when they were – oh. ‘This one is interesting – what do you think?’ They still said these words often, when the other one was not catching on to the invitation to converse silently. Not moving straight on to kissing quite yet, then. Their eyes met again, and this time, Albus listened. 

‘Löwenzahn said that it was father’s elf who poisoned you – he isn’t using human co-conspirators – or, at least, he is, he would have to, but the humans involved don’t know that they are involved.’ 

‘Gods. I had not even considered…’  
‘That Father might have an elf spying on us? Yes. In case he is watching us now… I don’t want the elf to know that we know he’s involved.’  
Had Gellert wanted the elf to know that they were planning to kill Gellert’s father? Because in retrospect, that conversation from the night before seemed reckless. 

‘I don’t want to keep saying ‘the elf’ – what is his name?’  
‘Didi – I think it is Didi – Father has not always been… kind to his elves.’  
So in other words it was Didi only if Didi had not been killed and replaced.

‘But - how do you know Didi didn’t hear you when Löwenzahn told you?’  
‘Because elves, apparently, can see other elves when they are present, even if they are invisible to Wizards. But we cannot have Löwenzahn with us all the time – he must be with Otto most times.’  
In the same way, Didi could not be spying on them all that often – he must be attending to Lord Grindelwald most of the time. To be always behaving as if they were being watched when usually they were not… what had Didi seen? What had he not seen? It was tiring to contemplate.

‘There must be some other solution. We cannot just talk like this all the time.’  
‘Yes, we could. At least we could talk this way for any non-trivial matter.’

Albus pushed Gellert onto his back and climbed onto him. He bent down and kissed him before meeting his eyes again.  
‘If we are being spied on, we cannot simply look at one another for so long.’

Gellert laughed, breaking the unnatural silence.  
“I love you. You are perfect.”  
“I am not!”  
‘Yes, you are. I like your solution very much.’

“You are flawless,” said Gellert. “Excepting only – did I mention that I miss your long hair?”  
“Not lately,” Albus answered, smiling.

‘Limiting ourselves to Legilimency is not adequate protection; your father’s elf would know where we are just the same.’  
Then it occurred to Albus:  
‘That is why you were not disowned! If you were no longer a Grindelwald, we could ward our spaces against Grindelwald elves, but because you are a Grindelwald…’  
Albus was surprised at how angry he was on Bathilda’s behalf – that she had thought that she was helping them, advocating for Gellert, when his Father had never planned to actually disown Gellert, had only wanted him to suffer the thought of being disowned. When in fact being disowned would have given Gellert more protection.

‘Because I am a Grindelwald, any of the family elves can access me at any time, regardless of wards, yes.’  
‘There has to be something else we can do.’  
“Run away with me, Handsome.”  
“I already have – had you not noticed?” Albus answered good-naturedly.  
He bent down and rubbed his nose against Gellert’s.

Albus pulled back and looked at Gellert – his gorgeous husband. Even as they were talking about something so serious as Gellert’s homicidal father, it was difficult not to get lost in admiring Gellert, kissing him…  
He started to bend down again, but Gellert laid a hand on his chest, stopping him.  
“Let me look at you a bit longer.”

‘I’m serious. Let’s go abroad.’  
‘What do you mean? We _are_ abroad.’  
‘More abroad. Even house elves are limited by distance when they apparate. If we went somewhere some thousands of miles away… Madagascar, China, Australia… The United States…’

Albus nuzzled Gellert’s neck and inhaled his comforting scent while considering this.  
“Mmm. I love you so much.”  
He pulled back and met Gellert’s eyes again.  
‘We can’t just run away, Gellert. That’s not a long-term solution. We have to eliminate your father entirely!’  
And perhaps this elf as well, unless he was acting against his conscience. How loyal was Didi to Gellert’s father, when not compelled by his master’s orders?

‘I agree, but I won’t have you destroyed in the process. We need to plan a way to do it where we won’t get caught - something certain, preferably something painful. And careful planning takes time.’

Where was this Gellert when they were going after the Elder Wand? Without Albus to temper Gellert’s hasty recklessness… Oh. Gellert’s visions. He had been confident that they would obtain the Wand. Still, having the Wand and obtaining the Wand secretly… those were two different things.  
In any case, this problem with his father – perhaps Gellert was as blind as any other person in this case – he seemed not to have anticipated it at all, so it seemed unlikely that he knew how it resolved. Before he could ask, Gellert continued, ‘Albus, he is too powerful for us to simply enter his house and challenge him.’

‘Together, we could – ‘  
“You are beautiful,” Gellert murmured, reaching up and running his thumb over Albus’ lips before pulling him down to kiss him once more.  
‘Yes, we probably could. But if we did… I won’t have you going to prison, Schatz. I would not be able to live without you.’  
Gellert was right. They had to be above suspicion.

‘Fine. I agree. Nothing open or obvious. Madam Gregorovitch.’  
‘Madam Gregorovitch.’

“Where do you propose we go next?” Albus asked out loud.  
“You are changing the subject!”  
“I am not! You asked me to run away with you!”

“Oh, yes. That’s right.”  
Gellert pulled Albus down and kissed him again. Gellert grasped Albus’ arse with one hand, and held the back of his head with the other. Albus began to forget that they had come to the clearing for any purpose other than this.  
Gellert started to unbutton Albus’ shirt. Albus remembered –

“Gellert! Travel plans.”  
“I think I would like to return to Zagreb.”  
Gellert kissed his neck  
“And possibly England.”  
Gellert kissed his newly exposed collarbone.  
“And – Paris,” Albus contributed.

“Noooo –“ Gellert protested.  
“Yes, Gellert. We have political contacts that we have to actually visit from time to time.”  
“Fine. Paris. One week only. Zagreb, Paris, Godric’s Hollow.”  
“And after that?”  
“Who cares?” Gellert replied, pulling off Albus’ shirt and licking each nipple in turn.

Albus groaned. This was progressing rapidly – too rapidly to finish the conversation. Albus didn’t want to care about that, but…  
“Gellert! Slow down, Love. Let’s – ta-aaa!-ke our tiiiii-iii-iime – Fuck! Gellert!”  
Gellert pulled back. “Well, which is it, Albus? Take our time? Or fuck?”

Albus rolled his eyes, then looked down at Gellert.  
‘Love, honestly.’  
‘You are right. I am not going to say I’m sorry, however.’  
‘Naturally. So, somewhere far away?’  
‘I was thinking – America.’

Unacceptable. Gellert’s politics were too well known. Though perhaps not that far afield... No, it didn’t matter if his views were already known by some American official or not – Gellert would have too much difficulty keeping his ideas to himself. Bloody Gryffindor of a man.

‘America?’ Albus slowly ran his finger down the placket of Gellert’s shirt, unbuttoning it. ‘Gellert, they are the most repressive magical regime in the world.’  
‘Well, not the _most_ ,’ Gellert answered, taking Albus’ hand and kissing his fingertips. ‘There’s South Africa, for example. And Antarctica. Spain…’ 

‘There aren’t any Muggles in the Antarctic, Gellert, so their separation policies are immaterial. Spain does not have a Wizarding government, as you know – they are an insular handful of twitchy Wizards who inexplicably moved back into a Wizard-free country just two generations ago. And the situation in South Africa is a recent development.’  
‘If by ‘recent,’ you mean ‘since Europeans have started settling there,’ then yes.’

Albus bent down and sucked on Gellert’s neck. He moved on to his jaw, then his lips, kissing him deeply and grinding down against him. Gellert moaned.

He looked at Gellert. ‘Why America, Gellert?’  
‘Oh – you are playing dirty, now.’  
‘Why America?’ Albus pinched on of Gellert’s nipples and Gellert shouted.  
Gellert gasped for air.  
‘Do we have to – continue this conversation? We could just –‘  
‘Gellert –‘

“How much longer are you going to torture me like this?”  
Albus pinched Gellert’s other nipple.  
“As long as I like.”  
All very well to say, but Gellert was becoming restless. This was not going to last very much longer.

‘I want to go _because_ they are repressive. If we want to change the world, then that will necessarily include changing America. We may as well see what we are up against.’  
Albus did not want to admit it, but Gellert made a good point. They could not afford to be ignorant of the American government. Once they had liberated everyone else, American wizards would be in grave danger if inroads had not already been made there. They were inevitably going to have to overthrow MACUSA. He wondered how long Gellert had been thinking about this, what he had seen.

Albus rolled his hips, drawing a moan out of both of them, this time.  
‘Yes, ok. But _Magical_ America only – we need to learn what their laws and restrictions are before we try to travel among Muggles. We don’t have any way of telling how difficult that will be until we are there.’  
‘Agreed.’  
‘Three weeks at the most.’  
‘But –‘

Albus vanished his and Gellert’s trousers, and slowly dragged their bare cocks against one another.  
Gellert's breath caught. “This is – you think this is - slow, Albus?”  
“Up until now, we have been slow. But we are very soon moving on to ‘fuck Gellert.’”  
Gellert pulled Albus down for a very rough kiss, devouring him. He flipped them over so that he was on top, and began rubbing against Albus more eagerly. 

“Oh gods! Gellert! I wasn’t – aaah! I wasn’t quite finished with –“  
“Yes you were,” Gellert answered, descending on Albus again. “I want you – I need you in me. Now.”

‘America is a big country, Gellert. Apparition across their borders is forbidden. If you share your views with a single person, we may well have to leave quickly. If -’

‘Shut up, Albus,’ Gellert answered.  
He pushed an image of his hole, already stretched and lubricated – ready for Albus. Then he pushed his need, his desire for Albus, his impatience, his feeling of being on fire everywhere from Albus’ torturous charade.

“You have been teasing me long enough, Liebhaber. Now.”  
Gellert lined Albus up and slowly lowered himself onto Albus’ cock. Albus closed his eyes and gripped one of the cushions. 

As Gellert began to move, Albus opened his eyes and looked up at him – Gellert’s hair was falling around his face, framing every feature beautifully – his wide eyes, his sharp nose, his broad smile.  
His broad smile.  
‘I love you,’ that smile said. With all his being, Gellert was saying, ‘I love you.’ 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The next morning, they said their goodbyes at the monastery. Albus was surprised by how many more goodbyes Gellert had to say than Albus did – and by his insistence on talking to a couple of the monks alone. 

After their descent, as they stepped off the ladder, Albus led Gellert away from the towering rock. He began kissing Gellert, backing him up against a tree.  
Gellert laughed.  
“As tempting as it is to tell the trees goodbye as well, I have another idea for us.”  
Gellert reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny magic carpet. He stepped out from under the trees and cancelled the shrinking charm. 

“You bought a magic carpet?”  
“There are not trains everywhere. For instance, between here and Zagreb? No train.”  
True, but they could have Apparated. For free.  
“You bought. a magic. carpet.”  
“The first thing I did when I returned to Greece. Remember watching the dolphins? I decided then.”

“It must have cost a lot of money, Gellert. I wish you would have consulted me about it.”  
“But you approve?”  
Albus sighed and shook his head. He was setting a precedent here, he knew, but he had enjoyed their journey with Brother Grigorios as well. It wasn’t defensible as a necessity, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t a good purchase.  
“Yes, I approve.”

Gellert smiled and raised his eyebrows.  
“When we leave the ground, a disillusioning charm is automatically activated. As long as we are invisible, we could…”  
Albus laughed. “You want to have sex on the carpet?”  
“Why not?”  
“Because we might roll off? Because somebody has to steer? Because…”

Gellert kissed Albus deeply, then took his hand and led him onto the carpet. They sat down together, and almost immediately, the carpet rose in the air about two feet and stopped, hovering. Gellert pushed Albus onto his back, tumbling down after him. Holding Albus tightly, Gellert rolled the two of them to the edge of the carpet… where they bumped into an invisible barrier.  
“Observe: a flying carpet is a magical object, with many safety features. And we are both capable of further charming it in whatever way we need. It is as if you forgot you were a Wizard,” Gellert accused.

Albus kissed Gellert lightly. “I forget too many things when I am with you. You almost made me forget that this carpet has another purpose! Let’s get underway before you make me forget again.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“I’m not sure what there is to celebrate,” Gellert complained. “Eighteen is meaningless. Seventeen was perhaps the last meaningful birthday before 100, and I do not mind if we do not celebrate my birthday at all before then.”  
Gellert had been awake less than half an hour, and already the day was not going as Albus had planned. Why was Gellert so opposed to celebrating his birthday? He hadn’t acted this way about Albus’ eighteenth last year.

“Well, for your seventeenth we didn’t have any real privacy. This year no one knows where we are, and we have all day to fuck one another senseless.”  
“Intriguing…”  
“Besides, I am very thankful that you exist, every part of you. And I want to –“

“ _Every_ part?”  
Oh no. That was his devious, deceptively charming voice. What was he after?

“Gellert –“  
“My mind is a part of me, wouldn’t you say? And my magic, and my eyes…”  
Legilimency sex?  
“Are you fucking serious?”

“It is my birthday after all,” he answered, leaning in to give Albus a kiss. Albus dodged.  
“You were just saying that birthdays are meaningless.“  
Leave it to Gellert to only care about his birthday if it would get him… no, that was not at all fair.

“Please?” Gellert asked. Gods, those eyes. Those lips…  
“Stop pouting, Gellert – that’s not playing fair.”  
Albus wanted to say yes. He thought about that afternoon often. If only –

“Please, Albus. I promise I won’t die.” Then he started laughing. “Though death by orgasm…”  
“Would traumatize me forever, you arse!”  
Gellert thought it was funny?  
“Albus. There is nothing to worry about. Our control is better now…”  
“Not when we’re coming.”

Gellert climbed onto Albus and looked at him. Albus closed his eyes defiantly.  
Albus felt Gellert get off of him. Where was he going? Albus was just about to crack open an eyelid to check, when –  
“Gods!”  
Albus gasped at the sensation of Gellert’s mouth on his cock. Gellert looked up and met Albus’ now opened eyes. Albus was overwhelmed with the strength of Gellert’s desire. He broke eye contact and moaned. 

Gods, he wanted to do this. He had missed it. He was replaying how good it had been. Did he really want to _never_ do it again? No, there had to be a way. It wasn’t only Gellert who was craving that intimacy.

Gellert began drawing Albus’ cock into his mouth slowly, the suction increasing and increasing – Albus shouted.  
“Yes!”  
Gellert removed his mouth from Albus long enough to ask, “Yes? Or… yes?”  
“Yes, both yes. Yes! Just – yes, keep going, gods, don’t stop!”  
Gellert licked Albus and then drew him back into his mouth.  
“But – aaaaah! – look – look at me –“

Gellert met Albus’ eyes, and Albus entered into Gellert’s excitement to finally be doing this again, his reverence for Albus’ body, the feeling of Albus’ cock dragging along his tongue, the spike of pleasure when he heard Albus whine…  
And then Albus felt the reverberation – Gellert feeling everything Albus was feeling – the heat of Gellert’s mouth, his lips tight around him, the electricity – feeling on fire everywhere Gellert was touching with his mouth, his hands, even where his hair fell down around his face and tickled Albus’ skin – then Gellert feeling Albus feeling Gellert’s feelings, and now Albus feeling Gellert feeling him feeling Gellert feeling him… and –  
All at once, his mind was filled with the sensation of Gellert laying on him – heavy, silent, immobile, unresponsive.

Gellert stilled. Then he removed his mouth from Albus and came up to sit facing him.  
“You really are scared. Not just – I thought… and to think I was teasing you – Albus! You didn’t tell me just how much –“  
“I – it’s not so bad, I guess.”  
“Liar.”  
“Not bleeding,” Albus countered defiantly, pushing himself up to sitting and holding up his hand, which was, in fact, bleeding. How had he not noticed the pain before now?

Gellert rolled his eyes and licked Albus’ palm, muttering, “I forgive you, you idiot.” The wound closed. The little scar that marked his palm from previous violations was gone as well.  
Albus raised his eyebrows.  
“I wouldn’t have thought that that would work. I wonder -”  
Gellert sighed wearily. “Show me, Albus. We can experiment with breaking our vows later.” 

Albus pushed what he had experienced that afternoon in Grein, starting with the moment his awareness turned to the burning curtains and continuing on through all that followed.  
Gellert closed his eyes breaking the connection.  
“Yes, I remember you telling me, but – I meant show me what you are feeling now? How it feels to be frightened when I suggest - ”  
“I – I was. It’s still – to say I remember, that is not a strong enough word. It’s so vivid, it is as if it happened earlier today. As if you were dead… I thought you were dead, Gellert!”

“Albus, I don’t want this if it is going to hurt you. I never would have asked to do it again if I had known that you were this frightened still.”  
“No, wait. Gellert, look at me.”  
Gellert opened his eyes, but he didn’t make eye contact. He took Albus’ hand and kept his eyes focused on their intertwined fingers.  
Fine. Words then.

“Love, I wouldn’t have agreed unless… I can be scared of something and still want it. I will never not be scared of doing this if we don’t do it again. But I – I can’t stop thinking about it. It was so intense – we were – it was like I was you and me at the same time, and you were you and me too, and then we were even more than that, until the sensations spilled out of us and filled the whole room. I want you to know what is in my mind, and I want to know what is in yours at the same time.”

“Yes, the first time – obviously. You were, we were… It doesn’t matter what it _was_ , Albus. I’m not going to enjoy it at all if you are not enjoying it.”  
Albus pulled his hand away from Gellert.  
“I am!”  
“You’re not. If I receive your fear - when you’re afraid, I have to stop. And if you are going to be afraid every time, then – “

“I’m only going to stop being afraid if we go ahead and do it anyway! How am I supposed to believe you won’t die unless we do it and you go on not dying?” Albus was almost shouting.  
“Albus, this is no little fear. Being genuinely afraid that I will die - ”  
Albus struck the bed with his fist.  
“It’s not hard to kill someone without meaning to do it!” 

They were both silent. Albus felt surprised. And ashamed. He could only guess what Gellert was feeling. He had yelled at Gellert. He had –  
Gellert took Albus’ hand in his again. He gently coaxed loose Albus’ clenched fingers and rubbed his thumb back and forth in Albus’ palm. He looked into Albus’ eyes.  
“Albus.” 

Albus looked down. He didn’t deserve to be looked at like that. With so much love and concern and desire to understand. 

“Ariana is literally the only person I have heard of killing someone by accident with their magic. Ever. She had been unable to control her magic for years. And, from what you’ve told me, her powerful magical outbursts had been almost entirely dangerously violent.”  
Mother. Albus started crying. Then he started to feel guilty for crying. 

“Happy fucking birthday, I guess.”  
He fell back onto the bed and rolled away from Gellert.  
Gellert sighed and spelled their pants back on them, then curled up behind Albus and kissed his shoulder. 

“You really want to try?”  
Albus thought about it. “I do, but I don’t know how to do it. Every time I think of a way, I – it’s not possible to avoid the feedback. We – our emotions get too tangled. If I want you to see what I am feeling – part of what I am feeling is what you are feeling. They can’t be separated when the connection is open both ways. If we want to share sensations, then… we share them. All of them.”

“Right, ok. But you do think we can get to a place where you can enjoy the Legilimency sex? Even with both of us – with us reading one another at the same time? Even with the feedback?”  
“I don’t know. I know I said that I thought it was possible. But did I say that only because I want it to be true? I’m not sure. But it seems that with practice – but you don’t want to try, so -“

“Albus. It’s not what I _want_ , it’s what I _think_. I _think_ it would be counterproductive for you to be reading my worry about your worry and so on. Imagine experiencing _that_ resonance – you feeling me feeling you feeling me feeling your _fear_. No, counterproductive was the wrong word. It would be cruel. I will not be part of us hurting one another in a way that is entirely predictable.”

“So we can’t ever – “  
“Maybe not. You have said more than once that we don’t _need_ it, and you are right, we don’t. But maybe all that is required is – you’ve never shown me what happened that evening.”  
“When we –“  
“Not when _we_ anything. No. The evening when your mother died.”

No. Albus had been careful not to think of that night since it had happened. Everything before he restrained Ariana and Aberforth had been packed into a box that was labelled with the only facts that were important: ‘Ariana killed Mother. Accidental magic.’ It had been sealed the moment the Aurors left the house, and he meant never to reopen it. It was not – he did not want to know. Did not want to see. If he had hidden it, there was a reason.

“I can’t, Gellert. No.”

Gellert released Albus. Albus missed his warmth. Was Gellert angry? Was he going to become dissatisfied with Albus if they couldn’t do this? Did he think that Albus was broken? Weak? He never should have – why why why did he teach Gellert Legilimency? 

“Albus. Albus, look at me? Please?”  
Albus swallowed. He had let himself become too open. It was dangerous to share. Mother had said – Mother. Mother had gotten herself killed because of all of her secrets. No, because she had trusted Father too much. No –

“Albus!”  
Albus rolled over and saw Gellert sitting with his back to the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him.  
“Come here? Please, Liebling?”

Gellert looked – determined. He looked –  
“I love you, more than anything, Albus. Please.”  
Albus took a deep breath. He pushed himself up and sat straddling Gellert. He pressed his forehead against Gellert’s cheek. Safe. Gellert was safe. It was right to trust him. Gellert loved him. 

“I’m afraid. But I – I’m not – I can’t –“  
“You’re afraid of being afraid, I know. It’s ok, Albus. It’s just me. No one else knows. No one else needs to know. You’re –“  
“Safe,” Albus finished for him.  
“Safe,” Gellert agreed. 

Gellert’s hands were warm and strong on his back, holding him in the present. Albus’ breathing began to slow until he was breathing with Gellert. It made Albus laugh, a little. They shared a heart and a mind and a soul – why not lungs too? But his amusement didn’t last long. He was soon back to worrying what Gellert _really_ thought about him. He wasn’t afraid, he was _angry_ – angry at himself for forgetting that intimacy was dangerous.  
His breathing was becoming ragged again – he returned to focusing on the rise and fall of Gellert’s chest. Safe. He was safe.

Nothing was safe.

“Liebling. You remember when you looked into my mind after the Wurdiztal’s party?”  
“Obviously,” Albus answered sullenly.  
“Always so impatient with the rhetorical questions. Yes, I know you remember –“  
“So why did you –“  
“Shush you. This figure of speech, it makes sense, it – sets the scene.”  
There were other ways to do that, but fine. It was not worth it to argue over more things than they already had done this morning. Better to save his energy for the bigger argument hiding just around the corner, if this was going the way that he thought it was. 

“You saw things in me that I couldn’t see, things that I had hidden from myself. You saw things that I could find that I didn’t want to look at. You saw things that didn’t strike me as significant. So many different thoughts that I wouldn’t or couldn’t have examined for myself.”  
“I don’t want –“  
“I’m not finished, Albus. When you looked, as you almost certainly remember, so I won’t ask and give you something else to be annoyed by, when you looked, _I didn’t feel anything_ – I didn’t see what you were seeing. You moved so stealthily, and I – my mind was so relaxed that it didn’t fight you.”

“I’m not relaxed.”  
“No, you are not, so I’m not suggesting we do this right now. But I think that it would help if I could see that memory again of – _everything_ about that afternoon at Wolf’s when we had sex. And more importantly, I think that I need to see the memory of Ariana killing your mother.”

Albus tensed up. Gellert ran his hand down Albus’ back, and again, and again, as if he were stroking a nervous cat.  
“And it would be a good idea to trace back some of your other memories of her accidental magic. I want us to try sometime _not now_. Sometime when you want me to know. Sometime when you don’t want to be alone with your fear. I can help you carry this, Albus. Ok? Not today, but later?”  
Albus sighed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe. Good enough.”  
Albus buried his head into Gellert’s shoulder.  
“No, it’s not.”  
“It is,” Gellert insisted. “It is better than no.”

Albus didn’t know how he was going to look at Gellert ever again.  
As if he could hear his thoughts, Gellert nuzzled the top of Albus’ head and asked quietly, “Are you ever coming back to me, Love? Or am I stuck here like this forever, with you pinning me down and not looking at me? Perhaps your plan is for us to starve to death?”

Albus wandlessly summoned an apple from across the room. Gellert laughed.  
“Excellent plan. Perhaps we can summon pastries from the café across the street as well. Not my first choice for how to break the Statute, but maybe I should reconsider. Who would not be charmed and intrigued by floating pastry? What a history that would make! ‘It all started one morning in Zagreb. Grindelwald and Dumbledore had not yet had their breakfast…’”

“Arse,” Albus mumbled into Gellert’s shoulder.  
“You love my arse.”  
Albus only just barely suppressed his laugh.  
How had this become a standard response? And why ever did Albus think that it was cute that Gellert always said this?

“I am afraid, Liebling, that we will not be able to summon all of our food from here. As charming as the idea is of floating food through the streets and into our room, the shop owners would likely be unhappy about the theft… Yes, on second thought stealing pastries even just this once would be a sure way to give Wizards a bad name before we’ve even begun.”  
Albus started to smile and pulled back just a bit, not quite meeting Gellert’s eyes.  
“That is not at all what I meant by starting with food, Gellert. I had not realized you were such a poor pupil. I shall have to start over with you. A field of wheat –“

“A poor pupil! Perhaps you are a poor teacher!”  
Gellert shoved Albus off of his lap, and Albus tugged Gellert down with him. Gellert gazed at Albus.  
“You are not hiding your beautiful face from me any longer.”  
“I am not. Beautiful.”  
“Oh, yes you are.” Gellert looked down at Albus and laid his hand on the side of his face, then ran his thumb gently over Albus’ lips. “So beautiful.”  
Gellert bent down and kissed Albus gently.

Then Gellert sat up and in a very businesslike voice said, “Ok, Schatz. Two choices only. Do we go back to sleep so we can start this day over again? Or get out of bed and get ready to go out to the bakery?”  
Albus lifted his hips and pressed his cock against Gellert’s. “Or –“

“Nooooo… No, Albus. We can get around to that after we do one of those other things.”  
“I’m tired and hungry both.”  
“Me too.” Gellert sat up. “Bakery, then morning nap, then sex?”  
Albus reached for Gellert’s cock.  
“You. Are. Wicked,” Gellert complained, grabbing Albus’ wrist. He brought Albus’ hand to his lips and kissed it. “No.”

He got out of bed and began to collect clothing. Albus sat up and watched him moving around the room. Gellert turned and looked over his shoulder. He smiled brilliantly. “You are gorgeous, Liebling, but I refuse to take you to the bakery in your shorts only.”  
Albus smiled and suggested, “Perhaps I am expecting you to buy breakfast without me.”

“Oh? You want to trust me to choose the right pastries? I might go to the wrong bakery altogether. Who knows? I think I shall just go wherever is closest, since I will not have my food critic with me.”  
“You wouldn’t!”  
“ _Perhaps_ not…”

Gellert was right. He couldn’t stay in bed forever. And staying in bed in an empty room?  
“Fine, fine, fine. Throw me some clothes, then.”  
Albus’ clothes came flying towards him with such force that they nearly knocked him over. Insufferable man. He would pay for that as soon as they got back. He had at least an hour in which to plot his revenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had imagined that snark was a mid 20th century word in its noun form, and that, as a verb, it was likely a noun that had been ‘verbed’ in the 21st century.  
> But I really wanted Gellert to snark, so it seemed worth looking into… and lo and behold, snark, as a verb, is solidly late 19th century.  
> ‘Snarky,’ as an adjective, is first attested to in print in 1906 (many thanks to the children’s author E. Nesbit for promoting the word!) and as words generally make it into print some years after they have already been floating around in the spoken vernacular, I could make a case for Gellert not only snarking, but being snarky in 1900. Unless Nesbit outright coined the word, in which case, very well done, madam – you have my undying admiration. (To be fair, she had it anyway.)  
> On the other hand, you will not see me using snark as a _noun_ in this piece. We speak often of nouns being ‘verbed,’ but snark (n.) is apparently a case of a verb being – nouned, I guess – and quite recently, too.  
> /obligatory_vocabulary_lesson


	39. Bozena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of raw numbers, WWI casualties were unprecedented. Casualty _rates_ were also quite high. Most relevant to Gellert’s vision, 70% of those who served in the French armed forces during World War One were killed or wounded. The highest casualty rate overall was that of the Austro-Hungarian forces, at 90%.

Chapter 36  
July 1900, continued

They had been in Zagreb a week when they were interrupted by an unfamiliar owl tapping at the window.  
Gellert groaned. “What a rude owl. Can it not see that my cock is in your mouth and wait discretely?”  
Albus almost choked on Gellert, trying not to laugh. Without removing his mouth he opened the window so that the owl could fly in, and then closed the window behind it. 

“It is looking at me, Albus.”  
Albus removed his mouth. “For Merlin’s sake, Gellert. Do you need me to stop because of a _voyeuristic owl?_ ”  
“It is unnerving.”  
“Then disillusion us. You’ve done it often enough.”

“It knows where we are, now. It will still seem that it is looking, even if it can’t see us.”  
Gellert was fastening his trousers already. Seriously?  
“Well, I am very much disliking this owl as well, now. I suppose I’d better stop and send it on its way.”

Albus stood and performed the necessary checks on the owl and on the letter before taking it. Then he transfigured into his barn owl form and scolded the owl for not waiting. The owl answered that humans had weird inhibitions, and Albus replied that nevertheless, as a servant of humans, it would do well to respect their weird inhibitions. He extended his wings and flapped them in what he hoped was an authoritative way, then changed back.  
“You deserve a reward anyway, but be more considerate next time.” He gave the owl a treat and opened the window for it to fly away. 

Albus did not recognize the handwriting. He began to set it on the desk, when Gellert asked, “Who is it from?”  
“ _Not now,_ Gellert,” Albus answered walking back to Gellert and pulling him towards him. 

“That owl has stolen my composure.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “Gellert –“  
“Since the owl seemed to think it was so urgent, we may as well read the letter, and then perhaps afterwards we can start again.”  
What a tiresome owl. 

“Muggles do not have to deal with this.” Albus complained.  
“This is true. But Muggles cannot send letters that will find a person no matter where they are.”  
Gellert was right. But Albus could not believe that any letter would be important enough for him to consider it worthwhile to be derailed in this way.

“I can’t say who it is from. The sender’s name is not on it, and it is addressed to both of us. Do you recognize the handwriting?”  
“It looks familiar..." Gellert took the letter from Albus. "Ah. That's the Svoboda seal - this must be from Bozena."  
“Oh! Bozena! Can you – my German isn’t as good as yours.”  
“I would be very surprised if it were, Kätzchen, given that you’ve been speaking it for less than a year!”  
Gellert opened the letter and began reading.

_Dear Gellert and Albus,  
I was astonished when Albus offered to help me leave Bohemia. Such a task seemed impossible, even for the two of you. I suppose when you are a man, many things seem possible. I wonder if you still believe you can help. I would hesitate to believe anyone else who would suggest such a thing, but the two of you have been blessed with determination, intelligence and kindness – and you have one another, which gives me more faith than any other quality you have. I can only hope that Albus does not make such promises lightly.  
Albus had asked me to send him a letter with my interests, talents, and languages. I ought not to have left the matter for so many months. I apologize. It took me some time to reflect on whether I would want to leave, even if you did manage to formulate a plan.  
Something has happened that has been clarifying in that regard: my father, apparently aware of my disinclination to marry, has arranged a marriage for me behind my back. The bonding is to be accomplished in November, which is not even an auspicious time – Father must be in a hurry. He has allowed little time for courting; perhaps he thinks that it is unnecessary.  
This is not at all what you had anticipated, I am sure. I am not getting in touch with you at a time when you may respond at your leisure. Nor am I giving you much time in which to do the necessary research or to make the necessary connections.  
Who knows if the two of you are even in Europe?  
But in case you have not given up on this endeavour, and it is possible to achieve my liberation in such a short time (how differently we may use the same word – Gellert is liberated, and I seek quite a different liberation, and yet how similar are our reasons), I will give you the information that I ought to have sent some months ago.  
I am afraid that my English is not very good at all. My Czech is, of course, impeccable, but useless outside of Bohemia. Otherwise, I have German and French, and Old Norse, though I understand that the latter is of little use outside of the countries to which I cannot go. Though it is useful for Runes, and I am very good at Runic magic.  
Otherwise I would say that my primary talents are in Astronomy and Arithmancy.  
These pursuits are considered useless for women here, so I suppose I should add that my sister would say that my best features are my posture, my face, my singing voice, my affability, and my wit, and she would say that my height is indecent. This seems unfair, as I am shorter than both you and Gellert, for instance. I cannot help it if I am taller than Drahomir – it is not as if he has offered for my hand in any case!  
If you have a solution, by no means should you inform me of it! It was difficult enough sending an owl unnoticed – it involved leaving the house with an uncommonly lenient chaperone. Any letter you send will be read by all and sundry. Whatever plan you put in place will have to be done subtly, as it is difficult to get me out of the house, much less out of the country.  
If you cannot manage it, I understand. But let me know so that I do not wonder. Perhaps in an innocuous letter, include the sentence, “We are in ______. The weather has been abysmal.” If your next letter does not include such a sentence, I will conclude that you are putting a plan into motion.  
I wish that I had been able to speak to Albus more at the party. We were only allowed one dance, and so we had so little time to discuss these matters. I am grateful to have had the chance to dance with Gellert as well, and to share Albus’ offer. Your surprise, Gellert, was no greater than my own – and your ready acceptance of Albus’ idea was gratifying. I could not ask for better friends, no matter the outcome.  
Fondly,  
Bozena_

“That is no time at all!” Gellert exclaimed.  
“No,” said Albus thoughtfully. “I imagine they will not let her out of the house in October or November –“  
“And perhaps she will be confined to Prague in September as well – there is much to be done before a bonding ceremony – and the Svobodas are one of the most powerful families in Prague – all of Bohemia and Moravia will be there, and not a few WIzards from elsewhere.”

“Perhaps if we go to Paris next week. We could stay there, celebrate our anniversary on our rooftop…” Albus asked.  
“Albus, what does this have to do with –“

“I wonder if the Svoboda children know anyone in Paris? Is there someone we know who could invite them? Who could be considered a fitting chaperone?”  
“The Viterre family has a villa in Turin, very near Lord Svoboda’s. Not Taranis, but his cousins – his grandfather and his father’s older brother and his family. I believe they are friendly with one another.”  
“That is perfect. I can inquire with Taranis. I wonder if a letter would be sufficient in this case, or if we should leave for Paris sooner than I had been thinking.”

“I still do not understand the point of drawing the Svobodas to Paris. Even if you can secure an invitation for Bohdana and Bozena and Drahomir, we cannot steal Bozena away without it being known that we have done it. If we oppose the will of Lord Svoboda, we will have lost all influence in Prague in perpetuity. Wizards have long memories.”

Yes, and however much he wanted to help Bozena, supporting Gellert was more important to Albus than anything else. He would not jeopardize Gellert's ambitions.  
But sharing his idea to both help Bozena and further Gellert's goals in the long run? That was going to be tricky. Between Gellert’s jealousy, and his frequent protests that Albus’ attitude towards their friends was too… utilitarian… Albus was aware that this turn in the conversation was unlikely to go well.

“I believe that I have not gotten around to telling you about running into Phineas Black.”  
“There are so many Blacks. That family is too large to keep track of,” Gellert complained. “But Phineas… why do I know that name?”  
Albus rolled his eyes.  
“Because you kissed him at a party when you were 14. Honestly, Gellert, how many men have you seduced and then forgotten?”  
“A kiss is not exactly a seduction.”  
“Not to hear Phineas tell it.”

Gellert had the nerve to smirk.  
“Well, it is true that I am –“  
“Shut up, I do not want to hear it.”

“Sorry, Albus. I just – kissing seems like such a small thing?”  
Albus sighed. Naturally, the imp.  
“It is not a small thing to me. I had kissed no one before you. Phineas had kissed no one before you. I wonder how many other first kisses you are responsible for?”  
Gellert laughed. “Wolf’s, for one.”

“What?!” Albus exclaimed. “He’s not even interested in men! Gellert Grindelwald –“  
“No, see – we were 13… It was the day after I’d had that vision of you, and it occurred to me that I wanted to test out my attraction to boys, and Wolf was the only boy available…”

Albus could not believe what he was hearing. The best he could say about this turn in the conversation was that he could delay talking with Gellert about Phineas. But Wolf…

“So – I told him that I thought we should practice kissing, since neither of us had kissed anyone before, so that we would not be a disappointment when we had our first opportunity with a girl who showed an interest!”  
“And he – believed you?”  
“Well, it was not difficult. The girl part was not true for me, but the rest… I knew that Wolf and I were not interested in one another in that way, so that was true, that it would be practice of a sort. And I did want to appear to know what I was doing when I kissed someone whose opinion mattered. So –“

Albus sighed. Gellert apparently saw no contradiction between ‘not interested in Wolf in that way’ and ‘kissing Wolf to test out my attraction to boys.’ Or perhaps he had been testing out his attraction to _Wolf_. And if so, what had been the results of that test, Albus wondered.

“Gellert, that’s not - what I mean is – you actually made him feel that friends routinely did this for one another?”  
“Well, no. He did have a sense that it was transgressive. But I am quite good-looking.”  
Good-looking, naturally charming… proclaiming himself sexy was surely just around the corner.

“And I am persuasive.”  
That was true, too, but none of that would have been enough for someone who was not interested in boys at all – particularly Wolf, who was used to Gellert’s shenanigans.  
“And what else?”  
“Yes, fine. And his father had been a right arse for the entire visit, so Wolf was looking to do something outrageous. So, I can assure you that he was absolutely a willing participant.”

“How, um – how much did you –“  
“Oh, Albus. It was just kissing, honestly. Nothing more. And we did it only –“  
Gellert began counting on his fingers, which might have been remarkable if Albus had not lost all capacity for surprise in the past few minutes.

“Four times? I think? In two days. Then Wolf gave me a stern talking to, that we were never to speak of it again, and I laughed and grabbed his arse and he punched me in the arm and gave me one of those looks like he is sick of me, and I asked if we were still friends, and he said always, and that was that.”

Four. Times. Albus was beginning to doubt Wolf’s lack of interest. He might be _more_ interested in women than men, perhaps even _much more_ interested. But if he were not interested in men at all – one time would be easily possible if framed as being ‘for experience.’ Two times, a bit of a stretch, but believable. But four times…  
And Gellert had grabbed Wolf’s arse. Exactly how much might Gellert include in his definition of ‘just kissing?’

“And did you never kiss Wolf again?”  
“Basically, no.”  
“Basically.”  
“Well, I haven’t kissed him on the lips, which is the only kind that counts, isn’t it? But you saw that wet kiss I gave him on the cheek outside our bedroom. I’ve done that a few times. More than a few, I suppose.”

Gellert paused.  
“And I have come up behind him, hugged him from behind.”  
Albus lifted an eyebrow. “And this is related to kissing, how?”  
“It’s not, it’s just –“  
“Did he lean into it at all?”  
“Not – usually? Or, well… Oh.”

Now who was oblivious?  
“Gellert, men who are only friends do not usually hug each other that way.”  
By ‘not usually’ Albus meant ‘never,’ but it seemed prudent to cushion this assertion with a modicum of doubt.  
“And the fact that Wolf accepts it, even enjoys it - I’d say he’s a bit attracted to you. He’s probably not aware of it, but –“

Gellert looked genuinely distressed. This surprised Albus – how could Gellert have missed this? Surely he knew on some level that what he was doing was not 100% innocent. If he had been hugging Wolf like this recently – Albus hadn’t seen him doing it either time they were in Grein, but was it because he hadn’t been coming up behind Wolf and holding him in that way? Or because he was changing the way he touched Wolf based on whether or not Albus was present?

“I think that maybe you need to tone it down? Still putting your arm around him seems important – you don’t want to break off all physical contact. And occasional kisses, maybe, as you are teasing him when you do it – but you need to do it less often. As for pressing your cock up against his arse –“  
“ – which was _not_ what I was doing,” Gellert said, indignantly.  
“That is very much what you were doing – that’s not how you were thinking of it, but you were. Would you do that to anyone but me and Wolf?”

Gellert bit his lip and looked down.  
“Gods.”  
He looked back up at Albus.  
“Gods… Gods. Wolf is my ex-boyfriend.”  
“Wolf is your current boyfriend, practically.”

“Why are you not more upset about this?” Gellert asked, incredulously.  
Albus was upset, a little, but his primary feeling was disorientation. He was rethinking every time he had seen Wolf, every time Gellert had spoken about Wolf, every time he had seen the two of them interact with one another…

“I don’t know. Maybe because Wolf seems not to want more from you than what he already has? Maybe because I imagine that if he were receiving physical affection elsewhere, he would likely be satisfied with still less from you? I don’t think that he is aware that he is attracted to you. And it helps that I like Wolf. And that he is supportive of our relationship, and goes out of his way to enable it rather than interfere with it.”

This attraction did rather shed light on the ‘I’m not here to join you’ remark. And Wolf and Gellert’s playful physicality.  
And Wolf’s completely unnecessary ‘you may not speak to one another at all at the ball’ edict.  
“Mostly supportive.”

“Mostly? Oh, you mean the Ball. You still haven’t forgiven him, then?”  
“I have _mostly_ forgiven him.”  
“So, no.”  
Against his will, Albus laughed. Gellert was right – mostly forgiven was not forgiven at all.  
“No. But I can forgive him for leaning into your hugs. You I can forgive only if you stop doing it.”

“Yes, ok. No more rubbing my cock against Wolf’s arse. Understood. What if I rub my cock against your arse?” Gellert asked, moving to hold Albus.  
“Mmm. Yes, please.”

Gellert kissed Albus’ neck and reached around and began stroking Albus’ cock through his trousers.  
“You better not have been doing _this_ with Wolf,” Albus admonished, without much force, but with a little anxiety.  
“That depends. Are you asking if I have been kissing his neck? Or touching his cock?”

“Gellert!” Albus protested, knocking Gellert’s hand off of him and starting to pull away.  
Gellert wrapped his arm around Albus’ chest and drew Albus back against him.  
“Relax, Liebhaber. I was only teasing. Holding you just like this, kissing your neck, reaching around to take your cock in my hand – none of this,” Gellert promised, “have I done for anyone but you.”

Albus wanted to say that his ‘joke’ wasn’t very funny, but feeling Gellert wrapped around him like this after the tension that had been building in him through the entire conversation… and with the reassurance of every ‘only you’ that Albus could claim… His last thought of protest died as Gellert returned his mouth to Albus’ neck. 

Gellert unbuttoned Albus’ trousers and pulled out his cock.  
“Oh!” said Albus.  
“Mmm,” answered Gellert, still sucking on Albus’ neck.  
Gellert’s strokes became firmer and Albus moaned as every thought was chased away.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Gellert came up behind Albus and kissed him on the top of his head.  
“Who are you writing to now?”  
“Phineas –“  
“That’s right. You were going to tell me something about Phineas.”

Yes, nearly a week ago, when they were still in Zagreb. How had they not returned to the subject sooner?  
Albus laid down his quill and stood.  
“I am thinking this is the sort of thing we talk about in a café.”

“You think I’m going to get angry.”  
“No – well… no. Probably not. But – can you just trust me on this one?”  
Gellert rolled his eyes.  
“Yes, fine Albus. Lead on.”

Once they had their coffee before them, Albus began, “Phineas was a student at Hogwarts when I was there, a year ahead of me in Slytherin house.”  
“Have I ever told you what a great consolation it is to me that you were a Slytherin?”  
“You would have loved me even if I were a Hufflepuff.”  
“You would not be you if you had been a Hufflepuff. A Ravenclaw, I could believe. Gryffindor would suit you –“

“ _You_ are far more of a Gryffindor than I am.”  
“You take that back!”  
“Gellert. This is what happened last time I tried to talk about Phineas. We are getting completely off track.”  
“No, I want to hear why you think I would be a Gryffindor.”

Albus had not met a single Durmstrang student or alum who did not think that Slytherin was the only acceptable house - and that being a Gryffindor was especially shameful. Albus didn't care much for Gryffindor house in the abstract, though there were a few Gryffindors for whom he had a great deal of respect, and there were several Gryffindors in the Wizengamot who seemed likely future allies. His own prejudice was nowhere near Gellert's. He should never have antagonized him in that way. But - in for a penny, in for a pound, as his grandmother used to say.  
“Gryffindors have missions; Slytherins have strategies. Gryffindors have friends; Slytherins have alliances.”

Gellert silently (and unnecessarily) stirred his coffee.  
"There _are_ Purebloods in Gryffindor, you realize. And Halfbloods in Slytherin?"  
"That's not -!"

"Have you ever thought that this prejudice you learned in Durmstrang is just part of the central European blood purity culture? Many people have the idea that Slytherin house is the Pureblood house - the house that maintains the Pureblood traditions, and in which the alliances essential to the continuation of Pureblood dominance are formed early - and that is correct, to a large extent. Nor are they wrong that the majority of Muggleborns end up in Gryffindor. It takes a certain amount of - " Albus almost used the word 'reckless.' That would not have gone over well.  
He tried again. "You see, Muggleborns -" have a chip on their shoulder. That wouldn't be well received either. 

"Anyway, you would never tolerate living in a dungeon when you could live in a tower instead,” Albus teased, “where you could have an unimpeded view of the forest.”  
Gellert looked at Albus flatly, unamused.  
“Proceed.”

This was not good. Gellert was already impatient with him, and they hadn’t even begun. Albus should not have responded so strongly to Gellert's teasing suggestion that he might have been a Gryffindor.  
Nevertheless, it was important to plow ahead, whatever the consequences. He ought not to wait any longer to tell Gellert - Albus had done damage too often by not sharing things with him.

“Apparently – I was unaware that the last few years he was at Hogwarts, Phineas was attracted to me and unsuccessfully trying to get my attention.”  
“And you learned of this… when?”  
“Brother Gregorios told me. He said that it was clear to him that I was unnerved by my own purely physical attraction to Phineas, while at the same time inadvertently rebuffing Phineas repeatedly.”

Gellert looked – irritated?  
“Would you have - ?”  
“Gellert, no. I – acting on _any_ attraction would have seemed dangerous to me, and Phineas is the Headmaster’s son. No, it is uncomfortable for me to have anyone need me to that extent, more even than for me to need... I – only you, Love. You crashed straight through my defences, thank all the gods. I could only ever want you.”

“And yet, you are _writing to him_ ,” Gellert said, his voice tight. “I am not in touch with anyone that I –“  
“I never so much as touched him, Gellert!”  
Albus could not help but contrast this reaction to his own reaction to the news about Gellert and Wolf – and Gellert had touched (and kissed) Wolf repeatedly. Speaking of people that Gellert was still _in touch_ with.

Gellert looked like he wanted to break something, so Albus signalled to the waiter. While they waited for him to make it to the table, Albus mentioned, “If it is any consolation, he regularly wanks to the memory of _you_ kissing him, so I’m not entirely sure that I don’t have more reason to be jealous. I’m sure he’s not the only Wizard in Europe…”  
Gellert cut his eyes to the left, and Albus took down their charms and paid the bill.

They left and Gellert pulled them into an alley, apparating them to a rooftop. Albus couldn’t tell where they were – only that they were still in Paris. Gellert allowed him no time to ask, becoming a raven and flying away. 

While he waited, Albus tried to place himself. Knowing Gellert, it was probably a church – he was intimately familiar with every church in the city. Otherwise, the only Muggle places Gellert knew well were a handful of small cafes and Tuileries.  
Was that Place de la Concorde? Yes! Albus recognized the fountain. He felt more relaxed, now that he knew where he was. 

But where he was was not nearly so important as the fact that the roof had a steep pitch, and they (well, _he_ now that Gellert had flown off) were quite high up. Albus cast a quick spell to keep his feet from slipping.

An endless five minutes later, Gellert returned. The moment he was back in human form he began speaking.  
“He can’t have you. He knows that, doesn’t he? Albus?”  
Was Gellert honestly worried? Did he think it at all possible that he had - that he could have - competition?  
“I was clear on the matter, Gellert. I am not interested, he knows I am not interested. He gave verbal confirmation that he understood that, and that he had been too forward –“

“ _Too forward?_ He asked you directly? When, Albus?”  
“On the train platform, when I was picking up Aberforth – and before you say – I have been _trying to tell you._ ”  
“He asked if you were interested - less than a month ago. And already you are _writing to him._ ”  
“He asked, and I answered, Gellert. Decisively.”

“Albus. He’s – tell me he’s not in love with you.”  
Albus looked down at his left palm and rubbed it, then he looked at Gellert apologetically. “I – can’t do that.”  
Gellert made a pained noise and turned away.

“But,” Albus hurriedly added, “he understands that he can’t insinuate himself into my life in that way. He joked that perhaps he would try you instead. But he understands that he can’t have you either.”  
“He knows that we are together.”

“For the love of Merlin! Gellert, did you not catch earlier… I know that you are his masturbation fantasy. The man is absurd. He shared far too much with me. I had to give him some kind of information, in order to build confidence. This was a relatively safe share. I had already told him that I am in a relationship…”

“And how do you know he won’t tell someone else?”  
“He – I think he was telling me so much because he was nervous around me. And –“  
“So, what you are saying is that he is a lovesick fool who you left believing that he perhaps would have had a chance with you if it were not for me.”

“Gellert. Saying, ‘I’m sorry, there is nothing about you that exhilarates me, you are insufficiently cunning and ambitious, and you are not at all confident enough to be my boyfriend’ – this is not the sort of thing you can easily tell a man without crushing him. Better to avoid it if you have another equally good reason. And it is certainly not his business that, before you, I could not imagine being emotionally dependent on anyone. So, what is left? The fact that I am in love with someone else. Someone who is the most magically powerful, most intelligent, funniest, sexiest man I have ever met – will ever meet. You are the best possible reason for me not to be with anyone else – no one could ever approach measuring up to you.”

Saying this would have normally smoothed things over, at least a little. But this time? Gellert answered only with a growl. Albus sighed. This conversation was going very poorly – Gellert’s behaviour was not giving him much of a motivation to share next time.  
But there was no going back at this juncture.

“So, since he already knew that I was in a relationship, I knew that if he ever heard that the two of us were travelling together, which he inevitably would, he would piece together on his own that the person I am involved with is you. Therefore, I was not sharing anything that he would not already learn without me. Not having already told him myself would have hurt any chances at a continued working relationship.”

Gellert’s face went cold. “A continued working relationship. You mean to use his affection for you.”  
“You have to admit –“  
“That he would be quite the tool in your hand? That he would do practically anything you ask of him?”  
“I was going to say that he is a Black, he is interested in Muggles, he is well-liked, he is intelligent and yet naïve enough for people to trust him to be innocent of any ulterior motive – “  
“Yes, unlike you, apparently.”  
“Not innocent of ulterior motives? I don’t think many people are aware of that,” Albus mused.

He noticed Gellert clenching his fist for just a moment and taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Perhaps that had not been the right thing to say.  
“He is in love with you, and all you can think of is how to maximize his effectiveness, how to ensure that he will continue to be of use to you.”  
“Gellert – “  
“No, Albus. This is not right.”

“We are never going to get anything done if we are not strategic about our relationships. This is politics, Gellert.”  
_“He trusts you.”_  
“And his trust is not entirely misplaced. I like him well enough not to hurt him.”

Gellert groaned and turned his back on Albus.  
“What would you have me say? That he should know better than to trust me? That I will not take advantage of any of our best opportunities?”  
“He’s in love with you, Albus!”  
“He shouldn’t be! I’ve never encouraged him! It’s not my fault if he is stupidly persistent!”

Gellert turned back. The look on his face was – Albus was certain Gellert would have thrown something if there were anything to throw. It occurred to him that he might transfigure a pebble into something satisfying – a crystal tumbler? A dish? A lamp? But handing Gellert a dish to break would serve only to infuriate him more. Albus knew at least that much.

“And what about me, Albus? Was I stupidly persistent? Am I of _much_ more use to you than Black? Or only _slightly_ more?”  
Albus’ eyes widened.  
“Gellert! You can’t really think – were you not listening to me at all earlier? I would not have bound myself to you if - You are my _whole life_! I have _never_ thought of you that way.”  
“And why not?”

What could Albus say?  
_Because you consume me, burn me from the inside out, until I am something transcendent, unrecognizable to myself. You are fire._

“I simply can’t think of you that way. You are – I love you. You are a part of me, an extension of me – you aren’t part of my external environment. You are essential to who I am now. You crawled under my skin the very first day, and I have no interest in dislodging you.”

Gellert sat and looked out over the city. Albus sat a small distance away – not quite close enough to touch.  
“I’m relieved you sat down, finally. I thought you might throw me off the roof.”  
“Doing it wandlessly is not off the table, so don’t get too comfortable.”  
Gellert’s willingness to engage in banter at this point seemed a good sign. 

“Phineas is – “ Albus sighed and continued reluctantly, “Phineas is not particularly important. I have to remain on cordial terms with his family, but there is no need for him to think that we are friends. If you are uncomfortable. I don’t want – you are the most important, Gellert. More important than anything, anyone else.”

“I suppose there is no point in tossing you over the edge. You could save yourself without a single Muggle noticing.”  
That was true.  
“Yes, I suppose it would be unsatisfying to not _actually_ kill me.”

Gellert leaned back and watched the clouds. Albus waited.  
“We can discuss Phineas more later. We – you brought him up in connection with Bozena, I guess I can imagine where this is going. If it’s all the same to you, I don’t have the patience for any more of this today.”  
Albus didn’t need for them to finish the conversation today. He just needed them to be on speaking terms.

“Going out for a walk, then?”  
Gellert looked at Albus gratefully. “You wouldn’t mind? It wouldn’t feel like – I’m not running away Albus, I just – need a little time.”  
“Sure, but – hug first?”  
“Oh, Albus.”

Gellert stood and walked over to Albus, took his hand and pulled him up and into a hug. He spoke softly in his ear. “I love you. I will try not to be so jealous, but – I am, I – never leave me?”  
“Why would I ever leave you, Gellert Grindelwald? Never. You are stuck with me forever, Liebling.”  
“I like when you call me Liebling.”  
“I know.”

Albus pulled back a little, just enough to kiss Gellert on the tip of his nose.  
“See you soon.”  
“See you soon.”  
And Gellert was gone. 

Albus sat back down and watched the carriages and the people below. He thought about the Imperius problem – was there a way to magically bend a Muggle to one’s will? Perhaps that potion Gellert’s father had used on him – was the mechanism different? Did it not work on a person’s magic, but perhaps on their mind?

Minds. Legilimency could tell them who they needed to control and who they didn’t… What did the Elder Wand make possible? He had already used it for Legilimency without eye contact - but only the one time, and the subject was unconscious. Could he read a conscious person without eye contact? A conscious person in motion? A conscious Muggle in motion in a crowd from a distance? Could he pick out any pedestrian below and listen in? How great of a distance might be possible? What if someone wandered out of his line of sight? Could he continue reading them?  
Albus couldn’t try any of this now – they had left the Wand in their room when they set out this afternoon. He would ask Gellert. They could try it on one another first. Tomorrow maybe. Right now, what seemed most important was to be back in the room before Gellert returned. 

With a quiet pop, he was gone, and the roof was home to only the pigeons once more.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus waited and waited. Gellert didn’t return for supper, and still Albus was waiting. The sky grew dark. Where could Gellert be?  
He was more angry than concerned (his mood being not at all helped by not having eaten since perhaps half past two), so when Alttayir warmed up, he was initially reluctant to accept Gellert’s call. It wasn’t like he couldn’t apparate. 

Fuck. What if he couldn’t apparate?

Albus touched his tattoo, and Gellert appeared on the bed, laying on his side and curled into a tight ball, one hand grasping his head. All of Albus’ indignation melted away, replaced only by concern.

“Gellert?” Albus touched Gellert’s back tentatively, and Gellert flinched. “Gellert, Love – “  
There was still no answer. Albus got out of bed and walked around so that he could see Gellert’s face. His eyes were closed, and every muscle in his face was tight. Albus reached out, then pulled back before his hand made contact with Gellert’s face.

“What do you need from me, Love?” Albus asked quietly.  
It occurred to him briefly that he was asking ‘how may I be of use to you?’ And wasn’t that the very opposite of what Gellert had accused him of?  
Why was he always having unhelpful thoughts at times like these?

“Gellert. What happened to you?" No response. "Liebling?” He tried.  
Gellert opened his eyes and looked at Albus - no, his eyes were unfocused, as if he were looking through Albus. As if Albus were not there.  
“So much blood.”

His own? Albus looked him over. He seemed intact. Someone else? Albus remembered the nights Gellert would come home, knuckles bloody, seemingly having beaten someone to a pulp – someone that he suspected of hurting Albus. Who would he - 

“The children, they will be young men, every one of them covered in blood. All the children, so many dead, some far from here, some not so far. It’s too late, too late to stop it. I hate the ones where – where –“  
Oh – a vision then. Where there was nothing that could be done, if they were inclined to interfere. Children who would be young men. How long did they have? Ten years? Probably a bit more – twenty? A war?  
Albus quieted his questions. Gellert. He needed to focus on Gellert.

“Shh, Love. I know. I hate these visions of the near future, too.”  
“No, not so near – over a decade. But it is so big. Cataclysmic. Too big to stop, Albus. Too many moving parts, and I see so few of them. Inevitable, it seems inevitable.”  
It had been a bad one, clearly. Albus was relieved that Gellert didn’t smell of alcohol. Hiding in a bar, drinking without Albus’ interference – that would have explained his late return.

“Do you want to tell me more? Or wait? I can get you some headache potion…”  
“Just – I need you close. I need you Albus. All of you. I’m sorry we argued, I -“  
“I’m sorry, too. Just a moment.” 

Albus spelled them free of all but their pants, then spelled Gellert under the covers. He called a vial of headache potion and another of calming potion to him, and gave them to Gellert to drink. Then he got into bed with his back to Gellert, so that Gellert could hold onto him, reassure himself that Albus was allowing himself to be held fast, a willing prisoner.  
Sure enough, Gellert loosened his posture and moulded himself against Albus’ back. He wrapped his arm around Albus and pulled him closer.

Gellert kissed Albus’ shoulder, but quickly pulled back.  
“Is this ok?”  
“Better than ok. I missed you.”  
“I was only gone –“  
“More than seven hours, Gellert. You were going to take a short walk around the city, and you were gone seven hours.”

“I – it was different this time. This wasn’t one bad vision, like on the beach or the train. This was – this was lots of individual visions – every child I looked at… I kept staying out hoping I’d be able to calm myself down before coming back to the room – I didn’t want to be a burden, so – but then I'd see another one, and - I had to start all over again.“  
“Never, Angel. You are never a burden. I wish you would believe me.”

Gellert buried his head in Albus’ shoulder, and somehow moved closer still. Albus hadn’t thought there was any space left between them. If Gellert got any closer, they were going to merge into one person.

They lay there like that for some time. Usually, Gellert would have fallen asleep after just two or three minutes, but even with the calming potion, the tension had still not left Gellert’s body after more than five minutes. He was gripping Albus as if he were the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Albus lay there silently, gently stroking the arm that Gellert had wrapped around him.  
When Gellert finally spoke, it was to say, “I want to know the rest.”  
“Love, I don’t think – “  
“I promise I won’t be angry, or judge you – I know who you are, I love who you are. We would get nowhere – I would get nowhere – without your understanding of people. And so long as you don’t go out of your way to hurt people, so long as you direct them in a way that is consistent with who they are –“

“I don’t think that it is possible to do otherwise without an Imperius.”  
Gellert sighed. Probably remembering that Albus had indeed tried to cast an Imperius, and was perhaps still interested in learning. Then again, he might simply be tired of Albus interrupting him.

“What I’m saying is, I have been sometimes judgmental of your way of thinking about people, while benefitting from that same skill of yours. And the people you have been manipulating, they usually benefit too. So – I’m ready to hear the rest.”  
Albus didn’t know what to make of this. This was – new. There was something to be said for having time apart to think, if this is what Gellert came up with. 

“Turn over?”  
Albus turned to face Gellert, and Gellert kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose, his lips.  
“I love you.”

Albus gazed at Gellert. Too close to take in as a whole, he scanned Gellert’s face feature by feature: his sharp cheekbones, his straight nose, his eyes – those beautiful eyes that Gellert’s father hated but Albus loved. He broke their gaze, and his eyes drifted down, falling finally on Gellert’s lips. They parted and released the words, “Kiss me.”  
Albus took Gellert’s lower lip gently between his teeth, then he slotted his lips against Gellert and tasted him. He needed this far more than he needed anything else right now. 

“I love you.” Albus thought about Gellert’s request. “I will tell you everything, but not now. You were so – when you came to me – I don’t want to push you until you have rested. Sleep first? Then we talk?”  
Gellert lay back and pulled Albus on top of him.  
“Kissing first, then sleep. Then we talk.”  
Albus answered by pressing his lips against Gellert’s. Gellert lifted his hips and Albus gasped – and Gellert took advantage of Albus’ open mouth. Albus was not entirely certain, but he thought it likely that Gellert did not intend to stop at kissing.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Ah, Phineas, good to see you! How is Cygnus?”  
“He’s well. Sirius has been brewing potions with him today, since he can't use his wand. Cygnus and I have been flying together most days – which we both love.  
"It was good to receive your owl. How long have you been in Paris? I thought you were in Greece.” 

“Gellert and I? We’ve been here just over a week. So many people here to catch up with, when all I want is a cup of coffee and a pile of books.”  
“That is a lie, I am sure of it. You have always enjoyed company.”  
“It is very difficult to find the right balance between dinner parties and research.”

Phineas laughed.  
“For me, it is dinner parties and flying. I am very happy to hear about someone else’s research over dinner – I get all of the conclusions without any of the work!”  
“Now who is being dishonest? I have never seen you simply accept another person’s conclusions.” 

“Perhaps not. But I imagine you also never saw me in the library. I prefer to learn by questioning the researcher. Frees up time for - other pursuits.”  
Phineas was taking the conversation in a direction that might very soon prove dangerous. Albus could not allow that.

“I am glad you found something that both you and Cygnus enjoy – you seemed doubtful of the possibility when we met on the platform.”  
“I had not at all expected to have such a good time with him. I believe that he is likely to make the Quidditch team next year.”  
“Excellent! Though I suppose it will further annoy your father that he will not be playing for Slytherin.”  
Phineas laughed. “Undoubtedly.”

“Have you been here in France since picking up Cygnus, then?”  
“No, we spent a couple of weeks in my flat, but then we heard that Sirius was here, that he had returned from – wherever he was – he’s being mysterious about it – and had opened up our grandfather’s house in Provence. Grandfather doesn’t come very often – it’s just sitting here – I didn’t even know we had it. We'd always stayed in Mother's family's townhouse in Paris.” 

“Tell me, Phineas – do you have an elf that could be spared at the moment?”  
Phineas looked at Albus silently for a moment, his eyebrows drawn in as if puzzled.  
“An elf? Albus, that was uncharacteristically abrupt of you.”  
“Well, moving from my first area of interest – how you and your brother have been doing – and on to my second interest – whether you have an elf that might be of assistance to me – would have required moving through ten minutes or more of intermediate topics that I have absolutely no interest in, and while I easily could have done that, it would have seemed dishonest.”

Albus hoped that such a seeming window into his thinking would disarm Phineas, and reinforce whatever positive ideas he had about Albus’ character. Time would tell if this strategy would prove to be successful.

Albus pulled a scrap of parchment out of his pocket. The words he had written on them had been spelled to disappear as soon as Phineas had read them:  
_There is a house elf that has been spying on Gellert  
I have a plan for how to correct that situation  
I cannot execute that plan just yet  
Today, it would be wise if you were accompanied by a disillusioned house elf whose presence would deter this other house elf from invisibly listening in.  
Would you be willing to call an elf now and give him a small shopping task, and then ask him to stand by?_

Phineas took the parchment. His eyebrows rose as he read. He looked up from the paper into Albus’ eyes.  
“I was hoping that your elf might be able to procure those items for me.”  
“Naturally, that should be no problem, Albus. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to ask… Thorn?”

An elf popped into sight. Albus waved the Elder Wand (feeling grateful, not for the first time, that the appearance of the Wand was known to only a small handful of Wizards worldwide), and the words reappeared on the parchment. Phineas looked from the parchment to Albus in astonishment. Albus gestured with his head towards Phineas’ elf.

“How can I help you, Mr. Black?” Phineas cleared his throat and the elf rolled his eyes. “I would _prefer_ not to call you Phineas when we are in public, Mr. Black, unless you absolutely insist upon it, in which case, as you know, I would have no choice but to obey your order.”

“Very well, Thorn. Mr. Black will be fine in that case. Could you please take care of this for Mr. Dumbledore?” he asked, handing Thorn the piece of parchment. The elf gave no sign that anything unusual had been asked of him, nor that there was anything unusual about the note – though the writing must have disappeared by now. Albus admired house elves for many things, not least their effortless unflappability.  
Thorn bowed low. “It would be my pleasure to serve House Dumbledore,” he said, and straightening, he returned the slip of parchment to Albus.

Albus had never heard a house elf speak natural Wizarding English before now. He wondered about it. The moment Thorn disappeared, he asked.  
“I had wondered if their usual manner of speaking was something that the house elves chose, or an essential part of their culture, or if instead it was what their masters required, in order to create a seeming intellectual hierarchy, so that keeping them in slavery might seem more palatable. So, I asked. It took some time for Thorn to trust me, but… he has told me that it is the latter. He is perfectly capable of - and enjoys - speaking English in the same way as the Wizards he serves. And French. And German. And Portuguese, apparently, though where he learned that, I couldn’t begin to say. But he only speaks in this way around myself and people that he knows I trust. Otherwise, he speaks ‘like a house elf.’”

“’So I asked.’ Phineas, you are the very best kind of Hufflepuff. You should be proud of your would-have-been sorting. Only a should-have-been Hufflepuff would have been concerned about making house elves comfortable, and would have wondered about whether they were being made uncomfortable in order to make others comfortable. I take that back - a Gryffindor might have done it, but they would have then gone off on a mission the moment the thought occurred to them. Whereas you asked an elf, treated them like an equal, and because you asked, you discovered something extraordinary.”

Phineas blushed and ducked his head. “Thank you.”  
“I only ever offer a compliment when it is earned.”  
This was only mostly true, but he was determined that it would be true in his interactions with Phineas, at least.

“Now!” Albus said. “Tell me what you know about Muggle Paris!”  
“I have not come often enough to have a favourite café or restaurant, if that is what you mean.”  
“Or theatre? We have a box at the opera tonight.”

“You said you’ve only been here a week! However did you manage a private box in a Muggle opera house?”  
Albus shook his head. “Gellert can procure almost anything. It is uncanny.”

“So, you and Gellert and I – and who else?”  
“Just us.”  
“Won’t we be conspicuous? So few in a box?”  
“Perhaps. Conspicuous doesn’t concern me.”  
In fact, it might be to their advantage, if they were seen as mysterious people of means, if they were to make inroads eventually in Muggle Paris as well.

“Will it bother you?”  
“I suppose not. It seems unlikely that there will be any other Wizards there. And - yes. That seems fine.”  
Had Phineas just censored himself? Interesting...  
“Excellent. We will of course spend most of the time enjoying the opera, but there are also a few matters that we were hoping to discuss with you – to have your assistance with, potentially.”

Albus paused. “You should be advised that Gellert will be sitting between us at the opera. He is – well, I told you. I suppose I don’t need to tell you that I will have your head if you attempt to seduce him?”  
Phineas laughed nervously.  
“Unless I manage to do it without you noticing.”  
“Lucky for you, I know that you do not mean that. It is because you are a good man that I am trusting you not to put a hand on his knee when I’m not looking. Now – supper first – then music!”

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair at first, but Gellert soon warmed up to Phineas. It helped that Albus and Gellert were carrying on their own silent conversation the entire time. Albus was relieved when Gellert decided that Phineas would have been a poor match for Albus, and that he had nothing at all to worry about. 

But Gellert remained undecided about whether Phineas and Bozena would make a good match, until Albus got Phineas talking about the insensitivity of the killing of magical creatures for use in potions and his experimentation with alternatives, about house elf oppression and his discovery of the intentional dialect gap, about the potential for Muggle-Wizarding cooperation, and finally about the injustices inherent in marriage, particularly with regards to the way it opened doors for women, but only on the condition of their permanent submission to a man that might command them never to act on their expanded options.

‘He is intelligent, Love. And inquisitive, and kind, and –‘  
‘And political. He cares about women, about their rights. He sounds like –‘  
‘He sounds like Bozena, yes.’

‘I hate that I suggested to her that I could help her without her having to resort to marriage.’  
‘Yes, you did not realize that that might be unrealistic. But I believe in you – you could have done it if she had given you more time. You are at least giving her an option.’  
‘So, yes?’  
‘Yes.’

“Well, Phineas. It has been a pleasure getting to know you better over dinner!" Gellert enthused, gesturing broadly with his glass. "But I’m afraid that there is only just enough time to finish our wine before heading to the opera house.”

Phineas was shocked at what Albus proposed.  
“I’m sorry, you want me to marry someone I have never met?”  
"I'm sure you've met her before, Phineas. Didn't you say that you knew all of the Purebloods in Europe?"  
"The men, Albus. Not the women. Not really. You dance with a woman once, and then another, and so on..."  
Albus' first thought was that Bozena was intelligent enough to be memorable. But he quickly realized that neither Phineas nor Bozena would have known enough about the other to risk having an interesting conversation.

"Yes, I suppose it is very difficult to get to know a woman in those settings...  
"Phineas, I would never ask you to marry her without - I would be no better than your father if -" Albus sighed. "We want you to _meet_ her and _decide for yourself_ if marrying her would be a good solution for you. I can imagine the two of you becoming friends, but she has no physical or romantic interest in men. And as you have no interest in women – it could be a good cover for you both and get your father out of your business. She is a Pureblood, and very beautiful. Your father is sure to approve.”

“I know - you said all that - but I have no idea who she really is, as a person, not just as a list of marriageable qualities. Whether we could live together happily, whether we could make a convincing couple…”

Gellert interrupted. “Listen – this soprano is outstanding – just stop talking, both of you, and listen for a moment.”  
Albus had never been to an opera before now. It was a little difficult to focus – he did not speak Italian, and he was not able to simply lose himself in the music with the distraction of trying to figure out what they were saying. It annoyed him that they were in France and the words were not in French, and annoyed him further that Gellert, who had at one point claimed to speak only German and English and Hungarian and a little French, had proven to be nearly _fluent_ in French, to know more than a handful of phrases in Czech, to speak Russian... and now it was revealed that he knew enough Italian to enjoy this opera. And he had learned Arabic so quickly…  
Perhaps the problem was that Albus was jealous.

Gellert turned and looked at him.  
“Hush,” he whispered.  
‘I am.’  
‘Your magic is noisy. You are irritated. Just – listen to the music only. Pretend it is nonsense sounds – as if the syllables were chosen only because they sound good together.’  
Gellert turned back towards the stage and was reabsorbed into the music before Albus could reply.

Gellert had spoken of nothing but the opera from the moment they exited the box. He was still vibrating with excitement when they arrived at the bar.  
After their drinks arrived, Albus looked over at Gellert.  
‘You can tell me more about the opera later, Love – right now, we need to get Phineas talking again.’  
‘Yes, ok. I’m not sorry.’  
‘About not telling me it was in Italian? Or about your enthusiasm? In either case, I know.’

Albus looked away from Gellert, and cast his privacy charm over the table.  
All three of them waited, drinking in silence. 

Phineas finally spoke up. “This will put a damper on my ability to meet men.”  
“On the contrary,” Gellert answered, “it relieves you of suspicion sufficiently that you will be more attractive. Particularly to other married men.”  
"No, I meant - it would not be necessary to seem available to other _Wizards_ , but..."  
Ah. Phineas had been seeing Muggle men, it seemed. Had that motive come before or after his general interest in the Muggle world?  
"No, the problem is, I would not wish to disrespect -"

“If anything, Bozena would approve of any outside relationship you might want to pursue, as long as you were discrete about it.”  
“And she might do the same?”  
“Would you mind?”  
“No – I would want her to be happy. If that would make her happy, then –“

‘Albus. You are a genius.’  
‘I am not a genius. I happen to know a man who is attracted only to other men, and who should have been a Hufflepuff.’  
‘Accept the compliment, Love. This was a wonderful idea. I should never have doubted it.’  
‘Well, if part of accepting this compliment entails you admitting you were wrong…’  
‘Arse.’

“Then I hope that you will consider getting to know her," Albus said. "Dance with her, speak to her at Madame Rosier’s garden party. If she seems compatible, continue to see each other in ways that could easily be interpreted in retrospect as a ‘whirlwind romance.’ But also in a way that the two of you could instead discontinue being seen with one another with some ambiguity as to whether you were interested in one another – as protection in case either of you decides that the plan will not work. But if at the end of four weeks you both think that this could be a solution for you, you elope. Simple.”

“Simple,” Phineas echoed doubtfully. “No, I’m sorry, you are right about the first part at least. Faking a romance should not be terrifically difficult. I have never courted a woman before, but I’ve seen it done enough times before now. But deciding in such a short time if we would be suited – shouldn’t I take more time about it? I could find a reason to be in Prague in, oh, November for instance.”

Albus took a deep breath, as if he were reluctant to share the next piece of information. “If you were to be in Prague in November, that would be just in time for her bonding.”

“Albus!”  
“She – her father is intending to marry her to a man who is – interested.”  
"You are wishing for me to subvert plans that _Lord Svoboda_ has already made for his daughter?"  
"I know it is a lot to ask of you, Phineas. And I would never think of it if it were not such a disastrous match for her. But I'm sure Lord Svoboda would soon see that you are the better choice politically. He will come around. And her twin sister is not yet matched. He could easily -" 

"Women are not interchangable, Albus!"  
Gellert turned to Albus, jaw set and eyes wide.  
'Oh, that is an excellent angry face, Darling. Now you will be even more convincing when you sympathize with him.'  
'You set me up!'  
'You love me, and you know it.'

Gellert rolled his eyes at Albus, and then turned to Phineas and sighed.  
"No, you are quite right, Phineas," Gellert agreed. "But unfortunately for Bozena, Lord Svoboda _does_ see his daughters as interchangable - only useful to him for the purpose of making alliances. And if I know her sister Bohdana, she would be more than happy to be married to the young man in question. And I imagine he would prefer a woman who would welcome him in her bed?"  
Phineas blushed and looked away. 

“I wouldn’t want her to accept me blindly. To simply take whatever she can get to get out of that situation. Neither of us will be happy under those conditions.”

“Oh, I do like you, Phineas," Gellert continued. "I could not wish for a man more considerate for my friend. I can assure you that I have known Bozena for many years, and she is sufficiently strong-willed that she will not marry you unless she is satisfied that you will both be happy. If not, then she will likely instead take the third option and run away.”  
Albus could not allow that to happen. Running would cause all sorts of problems for herself – and for Albus and Gellert, for that matter. There was nowhere she could go where she wouldn’t be in danger of being abducted and returned to Lord Svoboda. She needed the protection of ‘belonging’ to another powerful Pureblood family. Would she be inclined to resist such a match on the basis of idealism alone? Albus hoped not. He hoped that she was more pragmatic than she was stubbornly romantic. But he did not know her well enough to be sure.

Albus hoped that she would give Phineas a chance. He might be an ‘acceptable’ choice socially and politically, but he was also a good man. He would support her in whatever she wanted to do – whether it was writing or teaching or research or anything else – Phineas would never stand in her way, and would not allow anyone else to do so, either. Albus had no doubt that if Bozena allowed herself to see Phineas as an individual – to see his potential as both a friend and as an advocate for her – surely, she would agree to the plan. 

Phineas turned back to Albus. “When am I meeting her?”  
“There is a dinner party at Lord Viterre’s chateau three days from now, in honour of the Svobada family’s visit.”  
The Svobada _children_ , at least. Albus was relieved that that part of the plan had fallen into place – their parents had remained behind in Prague.

“When you get home, you and Sirius should find an invitation waiting for you. I imagine you and Bozena might find yourselves seated together.”  
They had enlisted Löwenzahn to speak to the Viterre’s elves and persuade them to seat Phineas and Bozena together, using whatever strategy he deemed most likely to be successful. 

Phineas sighed and shook his head. “I cannot promise you, Albus.”  
‘He’s going to do it, isn’t he? He’s going to marry her.’  
‘If we can get Bozena to agree, too – then, yes.’  
‘She’ll agree. They’re perfect for one another. You are quite a matchmaker!’  
‘Politician.’  
‘Friend.’

Albus smiled. “Naturally, Phineas. No promises."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first posted this chapter it was - more than a bit more angsty. But! I like to think that these boys are learning something from their arguments.


	40. (Out of) Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use “these marks” for writing dialogue that is contemporary to the narrative  
> I use ‘these marks’ for everything else, including (but not limited to):  
> remembered conversations, quoting a previous conversation or written material within dialogue, and internally talking to oneself
> 
> And most relevantly, I use ‘these marks’ for Legilimency conversations.  
> Sometimes -  
> “I move between speech, and –“  
> ‘legilimency.’
> 
> On another note...  
> Albus calls someone a 'hinkypink' in this chapter.  
> Which may appear to be a misspelling of hinkypunk, and arguably it is - however, it is intentional (and perhaps habitual - I'm fairly certain this word appears in a one shot or two that I have written.)  
> Personally, I think that 'hinkypink' sounds way better than 'hinkypunk' - 'hinkypunk' sounds too much like 'hockey puck' to me.  
> More important for the fic than my spelling are my HCs around hinkypinks (or hinkpunks, if you insist) that might help make more sense of why Albus would call this particular person a 'hinkypink.'  
> I like to think of hinkypinks as trickster types - entities that yes, lure people off of the paths that they are on, but not in order to misdirect them or cause them to be lost (whether short term or forever.) Instead, these wise, weird, mischeivous beings lure travelers onto paths they would do better to take, in order that they might arrive in places that they might do better to visit, or even settle in. Whether hinkypinks do this intentionally or not is a matter of some debate among those who have encountered these creatures.

Chapter 37  
August 1900

What did Didi know?  
Albus found himself wrestling with this question hourly. At least. There was absolutely no way to know, and he hated not knowing.

Did Didi know that they had the Elder Wand? If he did, would that be bad? Or would that be good – would that give Lord Grindelwald pause? Did he know that Albus had killed Madam Gregorovitch to get it?  
Did Didi know about Albus’ political activities in Constantinople?  
How many arguments had he seen Albus and Gellert have? Which ones? How might those be exploited – what had they revealed of themselves? 

Did Didi have any freedom to interpret Lord Grindelwald’s commands in a way that would subvert those commands? Albus had known some house elves who remained completely loyal to their masters in spite of their abuse. Was Didi unfazed by Lord Grindelwald’s dangerous temper?  
Or did he engage in rebellion?  
What leeway was there? Was Gellert’s father anticipating and neutralizing possible subversion by carefully wording the commands he gave? If so, was he as skilled as he thought he was in crafting his language?

What did Didi know? That was one question.  
How much of that information had been passed on to Lord Grindelwald was a different question. A different question that may or may not have the same answer. Either way, it was almost certain that Lord Grindelwald had information that only Albus and Gellert should have, and it was _absolutely_ certain that they could not know exactly what he knew and what he did not.

What had Gellert’s father done already with whatever information he did have? For instance - how many of their allies were truly their allies, and how many were working with Gellert’s father against them? What plans did he have for Gellert and Albus?  
Lord Grindelwald had the intelligence advantage, and there seemed to be no way to reverse the situation.

Albus hated the feeling of not having been cautious enough. He always thought he was being so careful. And, in truth, he had been. From the time he started Hogwarts, he had never confided too much in any one person. He had taken care not to garner any attention but academic attention, earning a reputation as an affable intellectual, lost in his head, curious about things that didn’t matter. Polite, full of interesting anecdotes, just on this side of inconsequential. Any relevant insights he shared were tailored for the person he was speaking to – drawing conclusions they were just on the cusp of reaching themselves. Before meeting Gellert, no one ever would have sent a house elf to spy on him.

But Gellert – his love for Gellert had made Albus incautious. He had _known_ that Gellert’s family must have elves. He had _known_ that Gellert’s parents disliked him. And yet, it had never occurred to him that that made _everything_ that they did a possible object of scrutiny – even when they were alone together.  
And how had it not occurred to Gellert?  
No, Albus would not hold that against him. Of course, he would not want to think about house elves. At all. Much less his own family’s elves. 

Albus thought for a moment about Otto when he was pretending to be Wolf – about his suggestion that house elves could be sources of information even to people not their masters.  
_What would happen if Gellert summoned Didi?_  
Had Gellert’s father anticipated that? Given commands for that specific purpose? It wasn’t worth the risk.  
It was too bad that Gellert couldn’t free Didi – that would be marvellous. But only the head of the house could free a family elf.

They were so much more careful now, but Albus could not help but think that that was rather like closing the cage after the bird had flown. Or perhaps it wasn’t. There was no way to tell.  
Albus sighed.  
Gellert looked up from the book he was reading.

“Everything ok, Schatz?”  
“Hmm? Just – tired.”  
Gellert looked at Albus and raised a sceptical eyebrow.

‘What is it really?’  
‘I _am_ tired. Tired of this fucking elf situation.’  
‘Me too. I’m so sorry.’  
‘For what?’  
‘If it weren’t for me –‘  
‘… being born to a complete maniac, which was not your fault –‘

‘Albus –‘  
‘Gellert –‘  
Albus smiled and took Gellert’s hand and kissed it.  
“I’m tired, but I’m with you, and being with you makes everything better.”

“Oh?”  
“Yes. And anyway, it’s not even a month yet before we’ll be in Godric’s Hollow.”  
“I thought you had suggested that we stay until just after our anniversary.”  
“Yes, but after that –“  
Gellert started laughing.

“Albus. When do you think our anniversary is?”  
“Gellert. Be serious.”  
“I _am_ being serious.”  
“When do _you_ think _my birthday_ is? You do know that it is this month, at least?”

“Your birthday is the 24th of August. You were born on a new moon, just like I was.”  
“And therefore – wait. The new moon?”  
“Honestly, Albus. You didn’t know that you were born on the new moon? That is arguably the most powerful possible moon phase on which to be born, and you didn’t even know?”

Stars! How were they always getting off track?

“I might not have known _that_ , but at least I remember that we got married on my birthday! Unlike you apparently.”  
Gellert sighed. 

“I’m sorry, Albus. It wasn’t right of me to laugh. And I should not have assumed that you would – I should have anticipated – I should have educated you on this matter long ago. The gap in your knowledge was evident, and yet I teased you about it instead of sharing my knowledge with you, and that was wrong.”

This seemed a bit ambiguous – not to mention condescending. What was he talking about? Was this still about being born on the new moon?  
“Well, get on with educating me then, I guess.”

“Albus, I’m not – I didn’t say any of that well.”  
No, he had not. But Albus was also being needlessly defensive. Gellert had been trying to apologize for – something. Even if he had been calling Albus ignorant in the process.  
“You’re forgiven if you tell me what I am forgiving you for.”

“Time and place, our place on this planet and our place in the sky, the sun and the moon and the earth, always moving, always repeating the same conjunctions over and over again. They didn’t teach you any of this at Hogwarts –“

“We did learn astronomy, Gellert.”  
“You learned nonsense. The supposed influence of stars an unimaginable distance away. Did they tell you anything about the sun? The only relevant star, the star that gives us warmth and light and food? Did they tell you about the moon? If it is strong enough to move the ocean, is it not strong enough to move each one of us, and the magic that is within us? No. They tell you none of this, and it is because they have been trying to stamp out ritual magic in Britain for more than a century. They would drain a whole lake to catch a single mermaid. Short-sighted.” 

Albus absorbed this tirade. He thought he knew where it was going, but Gellert had only gotten halfway there.

“Go on, then. You were apologizing, I thought.”  
“I – every time you demonstrate your ignorance of where you are in time and space – of the moon phase or the solar year – I have teased you about it instead of telling you exactly why it is important. That was not only unkind, it was counter-productive.”

“You taught me about creating rituals…”  
“Barely enough, there is so much more to learn, and I told you about the astronomical considerations only on a spell by spell basis. I should have taught you the relevant astronomy separately, to give you a solid basis, so that you could –“

Gellert clenched his fists and looked out the window. “I have to wonder if I was enjoying knowing something that you didn’t. There are so few things –“  
“Stop, Gellert. Now you are going too far. You would _never_ keep me ignorant, just so that you could feel superior to me.”  
“Wouldn’t I?”  
“No, you would not.”

Gellert seemed determined to think ill of himself today. Returning to the old ‘if it weren’t for me, you would have a better life’ refrain was concerning. Before lunch, he had asked for a kiss so tentatively that Albus thought for a moment that Gellert was sure that he would say ‘no.’ And now this – implying that Albus was his intellectual and magical superior in most ways, and outright accusing himself of trying to hold Albus back. What was bothering Gellert? How could Albus help him see what a wonderful person he was?

“Teasing me for not knowing something that you know, even enjoying knowing something that I do not know, is completely different from plotting to keep me in the dark. Besides, I never asked. And as many times as you told me that it was important for me to know, you would think that I would have asked. Maybe I kept myself in wilful ignorance so that I could resent you for knowing something that I don’t.”

“That’s absurd!”  
“Yes, it is. And it is equally absurd to think that you would have purposefully kept information from me just so that you could feel superior to me. That is not who you are. You love me. I trust you more than that.”

“Also – it would have been disrespectful, and it would have made me bleed,” Gellert said, in a weary tone.  
Would it have, though? Albus sometimes thought they had misnamed the 'Respect' vow - there was a great deal of latitude. Perhaps 'You are my equal' would forbid this sort of behaviour. Perhaps not. But Albus imagined that the 'I will sustain you' of the Nourishment vow might well apply in this case. “Yes, now that you mention it, it might well have made you bleed. But that did not occur to me until you said it. I said what I said because I believe in you, not because I was watching you for blood evidence.”

“I sometimes hate that we made all of those vows – we don’t have to trust one another. We can just – see if the other person bleeds.” Gellert looked down at his left palm. “It makes it possible to believe that the other person doesn’t really trust us,” he muttered.

Albus took Gellert’s left hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed the palm that had caught Gellert’s attention. Then he did the same to the right.  
“Look at me, Love.”  
Gellert looked, and Albus spoke silently for Gellert to read.

‘I love that we made those vows. We didn’t make them so that we could spy on the other person’s fidelity or care for us. We made those vows to say, _I would rather bleed to death than betray your love in any possible way._ That’s what our pact means – it means that we would rather die than outlive our love for one another. I love you, Gellert Grindelwald. Ich liebe dich. And I will never stop loving you, and believing in you, and wanting –‘

Gellert stood up and dragged Albus up to standing.  
“That’s enough looking,” Gellert said. “I’m moving on to tasting.”

His lips met Albus’ – it was sweeter than Albus had expected. Gentler. Gellert pulled away and looked at Albus.  
“I love you. You know that, don’t you?”  
Albus reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind Gellert’s ear.  
“I know, Raven. Always.”

Gellert kissed Albus again, this time just below his eye, and then on down his cheek, to his jawline, before moving back to Albus’ mouth. Between each single kiss he pulled back enough to look Albus in the eyes and say, ‘I love you,’ hardly louder than a whisper.

“Bed,” Albus insisted, as Gellert moved onto his neck. “Come kiss me in bed.”  
Albus took Gellert’s hand, and disappeared Gellert’s clothing piece by piece as they walked the short distance to the bed. Then he disappeared his own shoes. 

“That’s enough,” Gellert said. “I want to undress you myself.”  
Albus smiled. “Mmm. Then I want you to undress me too.”  
Gentle Gellert didn’t come out to play very often, but when he did, Albus was in for a very, very long night. He couldn’t wait.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, looking down at Gellert as he slept. He was just about to wake up, Albus could tell. Sure enough, there was the deep breath, and then the rolling onto his side to face Albus, then the little frown, like he was sorry not to be asleep any longer, then his eyes opening, and –  
“Albus -”

Albus loved when Gellert woke up like this – sounding so contented, as if nothing could be wrong with the world, because Albus had been the first thing he had seen when he opened his eyes.

Albus laid a hand on Gellert’s cheek and smiled. “I love you, too.”  
“Come here.” Gellert pulled Albus to him and kissed him. “Last night –“  
“Yes,” Albus agreed, kissing Gellert again. 

Then Albus laughed.  
“You know what else about last night – we did it _again_.”  
“Did what?”  
“Ended up having sex instead of talking about what we were going to talk about.”  
“Last night was worth putting off talking about - whatever it is that we were talking about.”  
Albus hummed in agreement, and kissed Gellert one more time. 

“That is not in question, Liebling. What _is_ in question is what all of your astronomy talk has to do with our anniversary.”  
‘And since there is some kind of ritual to plan –‘ Albus continued silently.  
‘I didn’t say anything about –‘  
‘You rarely talk about the sun or the moon without reference to a ritual, so –‘  
“You are very smart, Schatz, to remember all of that.”

Gellert sat up against the headboard, and Albus got out of bed and brought him a cup of coffee. Gellert drank some of it, set it down on the bedside table and pulled Albus into the bed and onto his lap.  
“You are the most handsome, most perfect –“  
“Gellert!” Albus scolded, blushing, “this is how we got off track last night!”  
“Be quiet and let me kiss my husband.”

Gellert claimed Albus’ mouth with considerably more hunger than Albus was expecting.  
“Gellert – Love –“ he gasped “I – “  
Gellert chased Albus’ mouth and kissed him with still greater intensity. The moment Gellert broke the kiss to take a breath, Albus hopped off his lap and walked across the room to sit in the chair at the desk. He tossed Gellert an apple, and then a piece of bread. 

“You are making it impossible for me to think straight, Mr. Grindelwald.”  
“That was, in fact, my intent, so –“

“I want to know about our anniversary.”  
“I want to know if you have another pain au chocolat.”  
Albus smiled. “You tasted it, did you?”  
“I did. Did you get me one?”  
“Of course,” Albus answered, tossing that at Gellert as well.

“Very well then. I suppose the man who bought us breakfast deserves the reward of his choice. You are sure you don’t want –“  
“I want it very much, idiot. You know I do – that’s why I had to leave the bed. I was being far too cooperative. But I want to _learn something_ first. I have been wondering about our anniversary since I woke up an hour ago.”

“Only an hour ago? That is almost sleeping in for you!”  
“Someone kept me up all night.”  
“What a coincidence! Someone kept me up all night, too!”

Albus wadded up a piece of parchment and launched it at Gellert’s forehead. Gellert transfigured it into a small bird that flew back, sat on Albus’ head, and laid an egg. Albus _almost_ made a joke about transfiguration not being so useless after all, before realizing that he was getting distracted _again_. No wonder he had learned less than half of what Gellert knew about magic.

“Very funny, Gellert,” Albus said, reversing the spell. “I’ll begin, and you continue – last night you were about to say that what I _think_ is our anniversary is not _really_ our anniversary, because I was observing only the Gregorian calendar, as opposed to the sun and moon.”  
“I didn’t actually say –“  
“No, but you were getting there, and I want to know the rest.”

Gellert took a couple of bites of his apple, then set it aside.  
“Yes, ok. So - our anniversary. For… Muggle purposes, let’s say – for sentimental purposes – our anniversary is on the 24th. And we can celebrate it that way if you like. But for magical purposes –“

“Wait. Is this why you were not interested in your birthday? Because, magically speaking, it is not your birthday?”  
“No, birthdays run by the solar year only, because… Albus! Now you are the one who is –“  
“I never said it was always your fault. I didn’t know that question would take us off track, but – my defence doesn’t matter. We’ll come back to your birthday another time. Carry on.”

Gellert considered Albus for a moment before continuing. “For the purposes of magic, the lunar cycle is important. Which is tricky.”  
“You said that the moon phase wasn’t important.”  
“To the blood pact ritual itself, it wasn’t. But it was in fact a ritual that was performed when the sun and the moon were in certain positions with respect to the earth. However little those positions altered the effects of that ritual, they nonetheless have marked it, and so the anniversary of the ritual is – Look, Albus -“ 

To an outside observer, it might seem that Gellert was being slightly condescending with his ‘Look, Albus,’ but Albus knew -

‘If we want to perform another ritual that is anchored by our blood pact ritual, then it needs to be on the same moon phase – ‘  
“Our anniversary –“ Gellert continued, “You see, we were married three days after the full moon –“ 

“So – is our anniversary… do we have an anniversary at all? Or do we only have a – lunaversary?”  
“Oh! Lunaversary! I like that. No, see that is the tricky part I was talking about.” 

‘We _could_ do magic on any 3rd day after a full moon for a weakly linked spell,’ Gellert continued silently, ‘but for the best effect…’  
“It isn’t just the moon phase that is important. It is the lunar cycle taken in the context of the solar cycle. There is some controversy… Some people would say that you go from the last solstice or equinox and count full moons forward from there. So – for us, we were married on the third day after the third full moon after the summer solstice, which this year would be the 12th of September.”

Albus was appalled. “The 12th of September! I never meant for us to stay in Paris until September 12th!”  
“Oh? Now who is tired of Paris?” Gellert said with a broad smile.

“Wait,” Albus said, “does place matter? Maybe place doesn’t matter. I was just – it was sentimental of me, I understand, but magically?”  
Gellert sighed. “Place matters.”  
Now it was Albus’ turn to grin. “I love you too.”  
Gellert laughed. “What?”  
“Well, it seems that you bound yourself to Paris for the rest of your life. For me.”  
Gellert grinned broadly. “So I did. You are worth even being bound to Paris.”

Albus laughed hysterically.  
“’Even being bound to Paris!’ As if that is the worst that I have put you through this entire year!”

Gellert started laughing too.  
“That!” he gasped. “That is not – even – funny! It is – it is o-o-only that – that you are laughing – so –“ Gellert started laughing harder.  
Albus’ dropped his forehead onto the desk in an attempt to calm down, but then Gellert made a very undignified squeaking noise and Albus lost his composure again.

Albus had no idea how much time had elapsed before they had calmed down once only to start laughing again, and again, and a third time, until he lost count.  
Finally, when every last aftershock had passed, Gellert spoke.  
"You mustn't think that the past year has been one long ordeal of you 'putting me through things,' Albus."  
"No, I don't. It's just - I've been poisoned, and kidnapped, and plotted behind your back, and -"  
"And none of that compares in any way to -"  
Albus waited -  
"- being bound to Paris," Gellert finished with a smirk.

Albus rolled his eyes. “Nice of you. Thanks."  
"My pleasure," Gellert said, with an expression on his face that indicated he was, in fact, quite pleased with himself.  
"Moving on. You said, ’controversy.’ That suggests that our anniversary is not necessarily in September.”  
“Yes. Some would say our anniversary this year is the August 13th, because that is closest to being the same distance from the solstice. The solstice doesn’t move very much with respect to the Gregorian calendar, so unless the difference is within a couple of days, it is accurate enough to count the numbered days. So – we were married on the 24th of August. August 13th is 11 days from the 24th. From the 24th to September 12th is 19 days.”

‘Is that – is there more?’  
‘For ritual purposes, some say that it isn’t truly our magical anniversary until the lunar phase falls the exact distance from the solstice or equinox as it had before. That is when the strongest bound rituals can be performed.’  
‘No! That could be years!’  
‘1956 to be exact. Which is why we won’t be doing that. Because I do not want to wait so long to perform this ritual. And I would like for us to celebrate our bonding every year –‘

“So, I think that we should celebrate our anniversary twice. Once the sentimental way, and once magically.”  
“And the magical date? September 12th? Or August 13th?”  
“Well, the 13th of August is just a week away. I don’t know –“

‘Gellert! Are you seriously going to choose between the two on the basis of whether we can prepare a ritual in time for the 13th? I cannot believe that you have no opinion on which of the two is _magically_ better, rather than simply _logistically_ convenient.’  
‘In my opinion, the difference between the two, magically, in negligible, and the debate is asinine and distracts from more important issues.’

‘I am afraid to ask what more important issues we are being distracted from.’  
“What do you think?” Gellert asked out loud, before sending Albus an image of him standing, leaning back against the desk, Gellert kneeling on the floor in front of him, his cock slowly disappearing into Gellert’s mouth.

“Gods!” Albus exclaimed out loud. Gellert grinned at him.  
“Something exciting you?”  
“I was taken off guard by – how unlikely it was that you seemed to be leaving the decision in my hands.”

‘Would you like me to show you what I would like for you to be doing with your hands?’ Gellert asked, sending an image of two of Albus’ fingers in Gellert’s hole, with Albus’ other hand stroking Gellert’s cock.  
‘Gellert! Of all the fucking – ‘  
The image changed to Gellert on all fours, and Albus taking him from behind.

“I am beginning to think that you are not taking this very seriously.”  
“I’m sorry. I am having trouble concentrating. Perhaps if you came back to bed –“  
“Perhaps if you drank your coffee –“  
“It is difficult –“  
“Difficult to remember what you have already decided?”

Gellert closed his eyes and tipped his head back, breaking the connection. It made a thudding noise as it connected with the wall. He groaned.  
“I hadn’t thought about it, ok? I forgot somehow. I feel like an idiot. It’s not like you haven’t said the words ‘our anniversary’ several times already. I just – “

Albus got out of the chair and walked back to Gellert, getting into bed and sitting astride him. He put one hand on Gellert’s cheek, and the other on the back of Gellert’s neck. 

“Forgetting is unlike you, Love.”  
Gellert opened his eyes and reopened his mind to Albus.  
‘Perhaps you were distracted?’ Albus sent a series of memories of them having sex in every possible part of the room. 

‘That was not helpful, Albus.’  
‘Turnabout’s fair play.’  
‘You glorious arse.’  
Albus sent an image of Gellert bending him over the desk, running his tongue over Albus’ hole.

‘Oh, well played, Liebhaber.’  
“So – you were distracted. Does that mean that ordinarily you would prefer the 13th, but given how near we are to the 13th…?“

“No, it means that my feeling is that the answer is different based on the particular bonding ritual, and I haven’t yet done the necessary calculations to determine which is our anniversary, given the type of bond we made, and the various details around how we made it.”

‘I thought that you said that the debate was asinine.’  
‘It is – we’re celebrating on the 13th, if I can finish the preparations in time. But I want Didi – and father – to think that we might be waiting until September.’

“Arithmancy, then. I could help. That might speed things up.”  
“Once I’ve written down all of the relevant components, though, and which calculations to use, and why, then there is very little left to do.”  
“Hmm. So instead, I look over your shoulder?”  
“And ask me questions the whole time and distract me? Are you trying to slow me down?”

‘Absolutely.’  
Albus pushed an image of him getting between Gellert and the desk, straddling his lap, and riding him right there. Them knocking over the inkwell (which would never happen – they had learned their lesson early, and now always spelled the inkwell to be unspillable) and destroying Gellert’s papers. 

“I don’t know. Would you like for me to get between you and your work?”  
Gellert wrapped his arms around Albus, low on his back and met Albus’ lips with his own.  
“I don’t want anything between you and me right now. Not work, not clothes…”  
With that their clothes disappeared. Albus gasped. 

Gellert grabbed Albus’ hips and pushed him back just enough so that he could take both of their cocks in one hand. Albus tipped back his head and groaned, but soon turned his attention back downwards. He loved seeing them rubbing up against one another like this.  
“Gods, Gellert – you –“  
“I know,” he said, grinning at Albus. “Distracting.”

He leaned forward and captured Albus’ lips with his own. Albus put his hand over Gellert’s, and Gellert released his own cock. Albus grabbed Gellert and began stroking him. He felt so good in his hand. But what he really wanted was –  
“In my mouth – I want you – in my – mouth – “  
“Do not make me let go of you,” Gellert growled, neither releasing Albus nor slowing down.

Albus’ brain was beginning to shut down – he could think of no reply.  
Finally, he managed, “Mouth – later?”  
“Aaaaa – yessss – “ Gellert replied.  
With that, Albus’ brain emptied entirely.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

There was something about Paris that pushed Albus away from his usual academic reading and into fiction. _Dracula_ this time. The things that Muggles imagined about the magical world – it seemed that they conceived of magic as only either whimsical or terrifying. This gave Albus pause. Was it possible for Muggles to take magic seriously without panicking? Albus closed the book and tapped it against his head. ‘The real question,’ he gently chided himself, ‘is whether there is any book that does not constitute academic reading when it is in your hands!’

Gellert’s voice came from the other side of the room: “Albus, I’m so sorry.”  
“What are you sorry for?”  
“If it takes me too long to finish these calculations, we might not get to celebrate our anniversary at all.”

Gellert was taking this ‘fool the house elf who might not even be there’ task too far, in Albus’ opinion. This was the third morning this charade had consumed. Albus was beginning to believe that it was a case of self-flagellation.

“This only affects whether we celebrate our _magical_ anniversary. If you recall, I am the ignorant British Wizard who is just as content to celebrate on the 24th. This seems more important to you than it is to me, so it is only yourself you need to apologize to.”

‘What ritual were you planning for our anniversary?’ Albus continued silently.  
‘Dual casting – to do it properly, we need to bind our magical intent –‘  
‘Surely there is some way to do that using the meditation –‘  
‘Maybe so. But there is an already established way of doing it that is specific to the needs of dual casting. We wouldn’t have to experiment if we took advantage of a ready-made ritual, and I have one.’

‘A ritual to – bind our intent?’  
‘Not at all times – it simply allows us to be perfectly harmonious – to share one will – for as long as we are choosing to cast together.’

‘You mean we would be in each others’ minds without Legilimency? And without looking one another in the eyes?’  
‘Yes,’ Gellert agreed, ‘but it requires physical contact of some sort – or both of us holding the Wand at the same time – if we are separated…’  
‘If we are separated, then we are 'only' as powerful as we usually are. How much of a difference - ’ 

‘Albus – you don’t understand how much more powerful – whatever we would be casting, it would be catastrophic to break in the middle of the spell. The backlash – we will have to be careful.’

Once again, Albus had failed to ask enough questions until the last minute. Catastrophic backlash? Shouldn’t they keep looking until they found a better answer than this? Why were they doing this, anyway?

‘Maybe we should wait another month after all. I would like more than three more days to learn about this ritual before we do it.’

“That’s true. It _is_ important to me.”

‘You don’t trust me.’  
Albus did trust Gellert’s intentions. But Albus also knew that they helped one another to think more clearly, and Gellert had consulted Albus about this not at all.  
‘That’s not true. I just- Why don’t you want to wait?’  
‘I need for us to not be interrupted during the ritual. I want to draw Didi’s attention to the September date…’

‘And we can’t wait another year because…’  
‘We have needed it already. Imagine if we could cast a spell – a permanent spell that made it possible for us to see an elf if we wanted to – any elf – even a Grindelwald elf.’  
That did sound helpful. But Gellert had said, ‘imagine if.’ He had not said that such a spell was possible.

“If it is important to you, it is important to me. You are important to me.”

‘But?’  
‘But I think that we need to wait until we can discuss this at more length _together._ ’  
No words came from Gellert in reply – only emotion – anger like a fire consuming every thought, reducing them into despair like ash that blew away, leaving only emptiness. Albus was confused. He hadn't been prepared for - whatever this was.

‘Gellert? Tell me.’  
Albus was standing in a flat and featureless place – to call it a landscape would be misleading. It was unnerving.  
‘Gellert! Where are you?’  
A distant voice:  
‘I had thought that I didn’t want to share the idea before I knew that it was going to work. But you were right not to trust me.’  
‘I didn’t mean –‘  
‘There’s no telling with me, I suppose. I have wondered if it is incautious to consider the ritual at all. Perhaps that is why I didn’t share my intentions sooner. Or perhaps I didn’t want you to examine the ritual. Perhaps I wanted to bind you in a way that you wouldn’t want if you had time to think about it.’

It had been four days now that Gellert had been insulting himself like this. It was becoming alarming.  
‘That is not true, Gellert. What’s happened? Why are you feeling untrustworthy? Don’t - ’

Gellert broke eye contact and looked at his papers. “I suppose I should get back to work.”

“Gellert –“ Albus went to stand behind Gellert and put his hands on his shoulders.  
“Gellert – Love? Look at me.”  
Gellert continued looking at his papers, which were filled with needless calculations. Gellert had told him that the necessary work for the ritual he had planned had been completed before Gellert had even brought it up to Albus. He didn’t want any evidence where an elf could see it.

Albus knelt beside the chair and laid a hand on Gellert’s thigh. “Liebling.”  
Still no answer.  
“Gellert, what is it really? Please. Talk to me.”  
Gellert finally turned to look at Albus.  
“You can’t – I am not to be trusted, Albus. Perhaps I forgot our anniversary because – I think you need to leave. Or I need to leave. I will leave if you can’t.”

There was a time when Albus would have believed this – when these words would have felt like a rejection. They still hurt, but for a new reason: Gellert either really believed he was irredeemably harmful to Albus, or he felt that he needed to say this for his father’s benefit for some reason, or perhaps even both. Gellert was carrying too much on his own – again.

“No,” said Albus. “You are right that I cannot leave you, but what is more, I refuse to be parted from you at all. If you go, I will follow you.”  
“What if I don’t want you to follow me? What if I need for us to part? What if I don’t want you anymore?”  
‘You do.’  
‘How can you know –‘  
‘Gellert, _I know._ Stop it. Tell me what is really the matter.’

Gellert broke eye contact again. Albus got up, sat on the desk in front of Gellert and grabbed his face in his hands.  
“No. By all the gods, you _will_ look me in the eyes and tell me that again.”  
As Gellert said the words, “I don’t want you,” Albus dove into Gellert’s mind, intentionally sloppy about it, so that Gellert would know he was there.

‘I’m not listening to you,’ Gellert thought at Albus, resentment colouring every word. ‘You can force your way into my brain, but I don’t have to listen to you.’  
That was fine. Albus was more concerned with what Gellert was hiding than him listening to what Albus had to say about it.

Gellert’s occlumency was strong – and aggressive. This dimensionless grey place clearly sent the message, ‘I’m keeping you out on purpose. There is _nothing_ of myself that I want you to see.’ It also had the effect of making it impossible to know where any thought was. Albus was going to have to work to enter at all, but whether he would end up anywhere close to where he wanted to be…  
But they both knew that there would be no keeping Albus out if he were determined enough. Albus broke through and looked for Gellert’s Gellert – the picture he had of himself. He dug until he found – fear. Fear and confusion and uncertainty and shame, but mostly fear.

Albus found the tendrils of poison reaching out into every part of Gellert, rooted in the moment when Gellert learned of the mind controlling potion that his father had given him, the moment that he learned that he could be made to kill one of the people he loved most – to do something without even knowing that he didn’t want it.  
Gellert no longer trusted anything about himself. He knew he loved Albus, he knew it deep in his bones. But did he push for the bonding so early because his father had made him do it, in order to make Albus one blood with the Grindelwald family, so that his father could exercise more control over him? That was his biggest fear – that their pact was tainted with bad intentions. Next, he wondered if his father had been driving his interest in immortality in general, in the Hallows, in the Wand particularly. How many times had he been controlled by his father? Or had he been controlled by him all along?

Gellert had been having bad dreams every night – vivid dreams of what he might do if his father potioned him again. How he might hurt Albus. Every night, one or more betrayals – killing Albus, holding him hostage, ruining his reputation… fucking Phineas, fucking Vinda… and then there was – Albus felt ill and drew back – there were even worse things that Gellert could imagine, and there were already too many things that Albus could not unsee.

So instead he drifted into viewing other dreams, dreams in which it was Albus who fell under the influence of the potion, Albus who did all the things that Gellert feared he might do himself, and more: burning all of the churches of Paris, colluding with Gellert’s father… Albus walking away from Gellert towards -  
Albus was pushed violently from Gellert’s brain, but he stubbornly dove back in. Gellert was afraid of himself, afraid for Albus, and he didn’t know how to stop being afraid.

‘Fuck you!’ Gellert’s scream reached every part of his brain obscuring anything but his rage.

“I want you,” Albus said, desperately, letting go of Gellert’s face.  
Gellert pushed Albus roughly, and repeated, “Fuck you,” in a broken sounding voice.

Albus sprawled on the desk, feeling a little ashamed of having forced Gellert to share with him in this way, and he did wonder if it revealed a flaw in their vows that he could do such a thing without bleeding. But he felt vindicated as well – this problem was insoluble without Gellert telling him. The damage Albus had just done could be undone with time. Yes, Gellert was angry. But given what Albus had seen, it was not unthinkable that Gellert might physically harm himself, and soon, to protect the people he loved from things that Albus was convinced Gellert would never do.

Albus lifted up his head and looked at Gellert. “You may not want me right now, but I will always want every part of you. There is nothing I can know about you and nothing that you can do that will make me stop wanting you, needing you.”  
Gellert shoved Albus half-heartedly. “You are an idiot, then.”

Albus rolled over and off the other side of the desk, falling inelegantly into his chair. Gellert pointedly looked away. He took a deep breath and thought hard about how to say what he wanted to say next without giving anything away.

“I can’t lose you. It would devastate me. I’m glad that we are scanning one another for poisons every night, so that what happened in Constantinople won’t happen again.”  
“I would not be so sure,” Gellert growled, “that we are infallible.”

There was not much that Albus could say to that – really nothing he could say out loud, and if Gellert was refusing to read him…  
What could he do? 

Of course!

“Löwenzahn!” Albus called.  
Gellert looked at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing? He won’t answer to – “  
Löwenzahn appeared in their room with an audible pop.  
“Master Dumbledore calls?”

“Löwenzahn. You are bound to Otto only. You do not answer to us,” Gellert said, angrily.  
“Löwenzahn answers to Heir Grindelwald, and Heir Grindelwald orders Löwenzahn to answer to Master Albus.” 

The elf said nothing of whether he was to answer to Gellert, and what the contingencies were on that order. Albus spoke quickly before Gellert could ask.  
“Yes, Löwenzahn. Thank you. Can you tell me who is in this room?”  
“Yes,” Löwenzahn answered with a broad smile.

That broke Gellert out of his dark mood enough to bark out a laugh.  
“There is no denying that you are Otto’s elf... Or perhaps it would be truer to say that Otto is your child?”  
“Master Gellert is Löwenzahn’s child – if Master Gellert wants…”

Gellert’s face hardened again, and he gestured to Albus. It looked like he was saying, ‘Get on with it, then.’

How might Albus ask Löwenzahn to reveal if Didi were there, without revealing to Didi that Löwenzahn was revealing that Didi was there? Communication under these circumstances was so necessarily convoluted that it made it difficult to get anything done.

“I am going to assume that if there was an immediate need, you would do something uncharacteristic. And that communication is important, as is – discretion. Does that seem right to you?”  
“Löwenzahn is not deciding for Master Albus.”  
“Yes, I understand. In that case, that was – interpret that as an order, please.”

“Master Albus thinks. The Master is not understanding.”  
Löwenzahn was a philosopher, it seemed.  
“Thinking is not the same as understanding? Or I am revealing a lack of understanding?”  
Löwenzahn smiled again. “Yes.”

A philosopher and a hinkypink.

“We’ll leave that for now.”  
Albus waited to see if Löwenzahn had anything more to say for himself, or anything he would like to reveal, but he stood at attention with his hands clasped behind his back, as if the very picture of obedience. 

“Didi – “  
“Is here? No. Didi is not here, Manni is not here, no elf is here but Löwenzahn.”

“Manni?”  
“Manni is the new elf. Favourite elf. Emmerich tries killing Didi but Emmerich makes mistakes. Didi disappears and hides.”

‘Emmerich?’ Albus mouthed to Gellert.  
“Father,” Gellert answered audibly.  
Otto’s elf hissed. “Father,” he repeated sarcastically. “Emmerich does not deserve this name. Master Gellert stops calling Emmerich ‘Father’ one day, Löwenzahn hopes.”

Albus hoped so, too. If Albus were not on the run from the man and his house elf, he might start calling him Emmerich himself. There was power in a name. In this case, the power was in stripping the man of his dignity, his power, his status.

“And Didi might be – available to us?”  
“Didi is a free elf. But Didi endangers any Wizard that takes him if Emmerich knows.”  
Oh. Of course.

Albus was very curious about Didi – about where he was, about how long he had been out of Lord Grindelwald’s service, about what transgression (if any, besides simply being within striking distance) had inspired his near murder, what method Lord Grindelwald had used to try to kill him, and why he had failed. But that was not the point of this visit.

“Yes I under – I will think about that,” Albus corrected himself with a smile. “What do you know about the potion that – the potion that Lord Grindelwald used to manipulate, to control Gellert?”

“Emmerich is a bad nasty wizard. Makes bad potions, gives bad potions, kills Master Albus almost, hurts Master Gellert. Emmerich falls off a cliff is fine with Löwenzahn.”  
“I could not agree more,” Gellert answered with a grim look on his face. 

How was Löwenzahn…? Right. Otto’s _personal_ elf. Löwenzahn could choose not to answer to – nor respect – Lord Grindelwald. It was a revelation, however, that the prohibition on elves harming Wizards did not extend to _wishing_ harm on Wizards.

“Yes, the potion is bad. How long does that particular potion take to build up in the system? Is it possible to test whether it has been consumed? What is it called? Where can the recipe be found? Are the suggestions somehow imbued in the potion itself? Or are those planted into the subject’s mind in some other way? Are there other potions that behave in a similar manner? Do you know if Manni or Didi or any other elf has potioned either of us with anything in addition to the Imperius-like potion used on Gellert before he left for England and the poison that I was administered in Constantinople? If so, which potions? Is Gellert in danger of being potioned with the mind control potion again? Am I?”  
Löwenzahn bowed to Albus in an exaggerated manner. He straightened back up.  
“Master Albus shows he understands now.”

Albus waited. He and the elf looked at one another, both waiting.  
Löwenzahn nodded.  
“Takvaldr is the name. Takvaldr builds, Takvaldr takes time. Unless Emmerich chances poisoning Master Gellert. He gives more, Takvaldr works faster. Two days, no sooner. Master Albus tests Master Gellert?”  
“At the end of every day. And Gellert tests me, too.”  
“Master Albus shows Löwenzahn how he tests Master Gellert.”

This was what they needed. Answers. Only knowing more about the extent of Lord Grindelwald’s power would be reassuring enough for Gellert now. Albus regretted not calling Otto’s elf sooner. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

It was the day after their – would have been anniversary, Albus guessed. They had marked it in no way whatsoever. Gellert had loudly proclaimed that their anniversary was in September for anyone who was listening. They had kept up their social schedule – lunch with Artaud, dinner with the extended Viterre family in honour of the Svoboda family’s visit, a garden party at the Rosiers', naturally. They had been to the opera again and met the Black brothers for drinks and billiards. Albus had met with Lord Dupuis the day before, and the day before that the two of them had visited Jean Pierre’s grandfather at his vineyard. 

It was as if they were keeping themselves too busy to speak to one another. They still shared a bed, but neither had initiated sex since Albus had forced his way into Gellert’s mind. So far, the only physical contact they had shared had been unconscious – Gellert still ended up on top of or up against Albus by morning. Albus had been careful to pull himself away the moment he woke, since in a sense Gellert didn’t mean it. He didn’t want Gellert to have to wake up to unwanted snuggling. He couldn’t stomach being part of Gellert doing something he was unwilling to do – not anymore. Gellert’s distance was understandable – Albus would pull away from himself if he could.

But now, something had shifted. Gellert came up behind him and kissed him on the top of his head.  
“I’m still angry.”

Albus was still angry, too – angry that Gellert had let it go so far – had refused to share his fears even when Albus had asked directly. But he was more sad than angry, and responding to Gellert by expressing these emotions seemed the wrong way to break free of this stalemate. Gellert had far more reason to be angry.

“I know. I’m sorry. I hate that I did that to you.”  
“Albus. I didn’t want you to know, and _you took that decision away from me._ ”

Albus had to agree – overriding Gellert’s wishes had been inherently disrespectful, no matter how frightened Albus had been – and no matter the good that had followed.  
Because however angry Gellert was at Albus, he was back to being himself in every other way. Or at least, he trusted himself. And while he might respond that he didn’t trust Albus, Albus was willing to have traded this reduced trust for the complete absence of trust that Gellert had had in himself a few days ago.  
And he knew that, in some ways, Gellert trusted Albus _more_ than he had done, now that he knew that Albus had never been under the influence of the Takvaldr – and that their marriage was not in any way touched by Lord Grindelwald. ‘By Emmerich,’ Albus corrected himself. He was trying to think of him this way in his mind more and more. It made him seem less mysterious, more of a peer. And a peer might be defeated. 

“Albus!”  
“Gellert, nothing I say would be an adequate response to that. You’re right. I took the decision away from you. Es tut mir leid, Angel. I want to say that I will never do it again, but I can’t, and that makes me ill. I want you to trust me, and I don’t know if you can, and I don’t know if I can be who you need me to be in that regard. And I don’t know how to move forward from here. I miss you.”  
“You mean you miss fu-“

“Don’t! No, don’t you even finish that sentence – this is not about the sex. Of course, I miss your body, but I can hardly care about that when you don’t touch me _at all_. You don’t look at me. The only time you speak freely to me is when we are in public, and then it is all – it is only social Gellert. You are right here with me, and at the same time completely gone, and I know that you were right to leave. Still, I miss you. More than anything.”

‘I love you,’ Albus tried. Nothing. Gellert had not been in his mind since that day. Albus had not been in his.

“Good. I needed – I needed to feel that you – that it was more than – I love you, Albus. I miss you too.”

“Sit with me?” Albus asked quietly.  
Albus pushed back his chair and Gellert sat on his lap. Albus leaned his head on Gellert’s chest and Gellert kissed the top of his head again.  
“You can – will you look at me?”  
‘Are you sure, Gellert?’  
‘Yes, just – stay here? Don’t go any farther.’  
‘Yes.’

‘I’m still angry. But I’m glad to know that I’m not going to kill you, not going to – I’m not afraid anymore. So, I can thank you for that anyway. Even if I wish… ‘  
Gellert bent down to kiss Albus gently on the lips. Albus groaned softly. He had missed the feel of Gellert’s lips. He had begun to forget what it felt like to be kissed. 

“I’m sorry, Liebling. This was – I cannot blame only you –“  
“I don’t need for you to apologise, Gellert. Please don't. Nothing you did absolves me –“  
He reached up to touch Gellert’s face, but stopped inches away, uncertain. Gellert took Albus’ hand and guided the rest of the way.

“I love you,” Gellert assured him. “I want – of course we need to keep talking about this, but –“  
Gellert kissed him on the lips again, and then on the forehead.  
‘Gellert? You – I am sorry, but I was so frightened. You had pulled away from me, and I didn’t know if you were going to make it back. I have never seen you hate yourself for so long.’  
‘Then perhaps you haven’t seen as much as you think you have.’

That was a distressing thought. But it was true that Gellert fell into these moods more easily than Albus would like. He wondered if it was possible to love someone into loving themselves.  
But Gellert was moving on quickly, as he did when they talked about his self-loathing.

‘By all the gods! I hate house elves.’  
Albus bit back the words ‘no you don’t.’  
Instead Albus asked, “Do you?”  
‘Love you? Want to keep talking? Yes. Hate house elves? I guess not. I hate never feeling safe, never feeling alone. I hate Father –‘  
‘Emmerich.’  
‘He’s still my father, Albus, however much we might wish… I thought that the dual casting – I wanted for us to have that tool, so that we’d have more of a chance –‘

That might be true, but he had had another use for it originally, or he would not have been working on it for so long. Probably warfare again. That was a conversation they needed to have again sometime. The ‘to discuss later’ list was growing.  
‘We can kill him without it. But first – first America. And – ‘ Albus had been meaning to ask for a several weeks, but he wasn’t sure how Gellert would feel about it, after Zinnie. ‘I think that we need a house elf.’

‘Albus –‘  
‘We could – if we had a house elf, that would limit your father’s spying.’  
‘Yes, great idea. A house elf in the room with us all the time.’  
Now who was worried about sex?

‘Gellert – this is already a concern. We never know when Manni –‘  
‘And where do you propose that we get this elf? There isn’t an abundance of unattached elves. The only option is to be gifted one by a family with multiple elves. I imagine that we have not yet been offered one by one of your many allies because it is assumed that I already have a personal elf, and we cannot let it be known – ’ 

Albus had known that he was stumbling blindly into a warzone, but it couldn’t be helped. This was the best strategy. He was sure of it.

‘America. We are going there anyway. Elves are distributed differently there. They are not – bred like cattle and doled out from more favoured families to less favoured ones. There are placement agencies, and elves choose their masters. Elves are not owned – they are free to bond with the Witches and Wizards of their choice, and they are as free to break the bond as their masters are, and with less cause.’

‘But wouldn’t they become less free when we leave America?’  
‘No – they would remain free elves. But they would be a bit at our mercy to keep our word to return them to America if they wish to leave our service. But an adventurous elf might be willing to risk it, and we would need an elf who was willing to take risks, anyway.’

‘ _You_ would need. _Your_ elf. I will not – your elf only, Albus.’  
That might formally be the case, but Albus would not accept any elf that didn’t also recognize Gellert as their responsibility.  
‘Yes, fine.’

“Now that we know that we have such a long wait before our anniversary – I was thinking that I would like to visit my sister.”  
“You would leave Paris rather than stay the whole four weeks?” Gellert asked. Then he smiled, “Are you sure you wish to be torn away from your many useful associates?”  
“Very funny. I had already planned to see Ariana when we thought that our anniversary might be yesterday. Will you come with me?”  
“Always. I will never be too angry to come with you.”  
That was patently false. But Gellert believed it was true, anyway. There was no reason to argue the point.

‘So, we are going to America soon, Liebling?’  
‘Next week, if you want. I need to see Black first –‘

‘Phineas? We just saw him. And there’s nothing we can do anymore. We have introduced the idea – it is in their hands now. Bozena’s hands. I think Phineas is convinced.’  
‘Not Phineas. The Headmaster. He has good connections, and if I tell him that I am interested in ‘the American solution’ to ‘the Muggle Problem,’ then that will keep him out of my hair for a little while longer – and any assertions he makes about my motives will make him appear a fool to my true allies, serving to further discredit him.’

‘And if he alerts my father?’  
‘We won’t give him time for that – we will leave within a day of speaking to him. I feel we need him. If he can provide us with a letter of introduction, it will smooth our way. And when he tells his contact that I am looking into American Wizarding Law as an example for Britain to follow, it will allow us to ask many questions that would otherwise be considered impertinent.’  
Gellert stood, took Albus’ arm, and pulled him up to standing. 

“I love you, Albus.”  
‘You are a genius.’  
Albus felt like those observations had been rather obvious, but he would happily take the praise.

Gellert kissed him.  
“What would I do without you?”  
Albus smirked. “I shudder to think,” he teased.  
Gellert held him close.  
“Me too,” he murmured, and he stood there clinging to Albus for a long time before letting him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks are, as ever, due to Aiflenoif for help with German phrases -  
> They gave me so many options for saying 'I'm sorry,' and explained the differences very thoroughly so if I got it wrong, it is on me.  
> Es tut mir leid = I'm sorry I hurt you
> 
> I never much cared for the word ‘frenemies’ – and then I met the moon phase calendar. She makes everything more difficult, and yet she is irreplaceable in my life. So I suppose that she deserves to be acknowledged.


	41. Ocean Crossing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bedroom German: ‘Du bist perfekt’ = You are perfect. Thank you Aiflenoif!
> 
> I have made some alterations to canon, with regards to the Black family. In Aethelfrith the Wise (my fic that takes place in a roughly analogous universe and focuses on the Sorting Hat), I established that Sirius’ uncle (also named Sirius) is still living (did not die at age 9) and is Heir Black, that that his grandfather Orion (that is, Phineas Nigellus’ father, not named in canon) is Lord Black (Aethelfrith chapter 2)  
> I have also postulated a bit of an extended family – I have given Lord Black a younger brother and a(t least one) nephew.

Chapter 38  
August 1900, continued

Ariana's speech shifted the moment the privacy ward was cast.  
“You figured it out then! About the elf! About the possibility of not only being poisoned, but potioned in other ways! About how difficult it would be to kill your father, about... Well, why would I have said –“

“Out of Gellert’s head, Ariana,” Albus said in a stern voice.  
“I’m not –“  
“You are. Those are not _my_ thoughts that you are responding to. Unless you are reading more deeply than you say you can do, because _my_ surface thoughts were certainly not anything like that.”

Albus looked at his husband with concern.  
“Gellert?”  
‘I’m so sorry, Angel. I didn’t think – you don’t have to stay.’  
Gellert looked from Albus to Ariana. Albus could hear the consternation and disappointment in Gellert’s voice. “How could you? You said –“

“I said that I wouldn’t read you uninvited _unless_ you were thinking about me, and those were thoughts about me, weren’t they? The last time you were here, it was to talk to me about the house elf who had visited you. You were remembering your last visit, and –“  
Albus cut in. “Ari. I was thinking about you too.”  
“I know – I can listen to more than one person at the same time _if_ there is more than one person thinking about me. And thank you. I like to think that this shade of green looks nice on me, too.” 

Ariana turned her attention back to Gellert. “I see. You don’t like me very much right now. You think I could have spared you some of your trouble if we had talked about it? No, I don’t think so. You were going to figure it out when you were ready. I was certainly not endangering Albus! I was fairly certain you already knew. Fine, not consciously, but you never would have – well, that is a fair point…”

“Ariana. I am serious. We are going to leave if you do not leave Gellert alone. There is an art museum not far from here. It’s very nice. The pictures don’t talk, they don’t move, and they _don’t read your mind_.”

“If Gellert wants me out of his mind, he can stop thinking about me. Oh, I don’t think Albus would thank you for pulling your wand on me, Gellert Grindelwald.”

“Albus, I think I need to –“  
“Go, Love. I’ll meet you in –“

“He could have just used the Wand at any time,” Ariana interrupted. “You know he could have. That’s right, Albus, Madam Gregorovitch. Gellert could have been unconscious and – “  
Albus became alarmed.  
“Ariana! Stop it right now!”  
“You know it’s true Gellert. He forced his way in, yes, but he made sure that you would know he was doing it. He didn’t have to. He could have done it secretly. Which would be the bigger betrayal? Oh, is that how you feel about it?”

“Yes!” Gellert shouted out loud. “Yes, I do. You say that Albus would never do such a thing, but _you_ would, wouldn’t you? You do it all the time! So why should I care what _you_ think about Albus’ morals when you don’t care about privacy yourself!“  
“I can’t help –“  
“Oh no? Because those last thoughts _weren’t about you at all_.”

Albus was disinclined to intervene. Gellert was right. Ariana had overstepped. She had been toying with Gellert from the beginning. It would have been cruel at any time, but Gellert was still fragile after Albus’ incursion the week before. 

“Cruel, Albus? I’m trying to help you! Gellert is still angry –“  
“He is _right_ to still be angry! Leave him be, Ari – this is not why –“

Ariana turned away from Albus as if he were not speaking to her at all, and began addressing Gellert again. “Sorry you met me, are you, Gellert? Don’t think I’m so much fun now, do you? You wondered why I wouldn’t leave with the two of you? Well, now you know – nobody can trust me! Nobody will ever –“  
Water glasses all over the ward started exploding. 

Albus turned to Gellert. “Trafalgar. I’ll meet you at one of the fountains as soon as I have cleaned this up. Wand?”  
Gellert handed Albus the Wand. “I might instead - track me?”  
Albus placed the tracking spell and then pulled Gellert close and kissed him. As long as he had to Obliviate the entire ward anyway, why hold back?  
“I love you,” he whispered. “Go.”

Gellert took Albus’ hand and squeezed it before turning to leave. When the door closed behind Gellert, Albus tightened his grip on the Wand.  
“I can anticipate you perfectly," Ariana reminded him. "You can’t beat me.” 

Albus would happily take his chances with that. He lifted the Wand and pointed it at Ariana.  
“Honestly, Albus. I'm no risk at all - I’m perfectly fine. Let’s put the ward to rights. I’ll vanish the spilled water and the shards of glass, and you do the Obliviations. Mass Obliviation? Oh, very nice. Perhaps some time you would let me try – no, of course not. No, Albus, we will not talk about Gellert until after everything is back to normal.”

When the Mediwitch peeked in two minutes later, Ariana was sitting in a chair beside her bed, and Albus was sitting on the edge of her bed talking to her. They turned and looked at her with shy smiles on their faces and she shook her head and smiled back. “Take as long as you like, Dearies.”

The moment she was gone, Ariana turned to Albus and grinned wickedly. “I’m sorry I did you out of a trip to the rooftop garden _again_ this time.”  
“Ariana, that is inappropriate –“  
“Why?”  
“It’s – Merlin! – it’s _private_. Do you have any concept of – “

Ariana sighed. “It’s fine, Albus. You didn’t have to stop yourself. No, I do not have any concept of privacy. And I have been so excited that someone knows, that I have not tried to learn what the appropriate limits are. It is so strange that I would not be allowed to speak about something that we both know I know about."

Also on the list of things they both knew? At the time, Albus had not known _at all_ that Ariana had been listening in to him and Gellert fantasizing about the garden - in fact, she had said that she was _not_ in either of their heads, or they would never have gone so far. It was only because she had alluded to it on his next visit that he knew that she had lied about it.

"No, I suppose me knowing does not at all mean that you are happy that I know, or that you are willing to talk about it. But how am I supposed to tell? What are the rules? Well, you say that, but then you kiss him in front of me.”  
“Ariana. Stop. I want to – can we speak normally? Please?”  
Ariana rolled her eyes. “Fine. Go ahead.”

“How are you – you were so upset at Gellert, and then you were able to recover so – “  
“Upset? No. It was quite convincing, though, wasn’t it?”  
“You weren’t – you exploded those glasses, but you weren’t…”

Ariana waited with a smile on her face. When Albus didn’t continue speaking right away, she huffed, “You asked to ‘speak normally,’ then you leave me bursting with the need to reply. You are thinking too much and not talking enough.”  
‘Listen to someone else then,’ Albus thought at her, angrily. Ariana huffed.  
“Sometimes people pause to gather their thoughts, Dove. Give me time.”  
Albus fell silent again.  
After ten seconds, Ariana burst out in frustration, “You are torturing me on purpose!”

Albus raised an eyebrow.  
“I knew you couldn’t do it. Tell me what you were trying to achieve, going after Gellert.”  
“You already have some ideas.”  
“Yes, but I don’t know for sure, and even if I did, I want to hear you say it. Out loud.”

“I thought it would help the two of you if he saw you coming to his rescue. About the very thing that he is upset at you about. I wanted him to see the difference, and for the two of you to be happy together again.”

“We _are_ happy together, Ari.”  
“Not like you were before -“  
“We’re getting there. We _don’t_ need you trying to speed things along. Merlin knows what kind of damage you might have done instead!”  
“It was taking you _too long!_ ”  
“Ari, it’s only been eight days – “  
“That’s not fast enough!“

“It takes as long as it takes. And it is none of your business. Just because it makes you uncomfortable –“  
“ _Gellert_ is uncomfortable. _You_ are uncomfortable.”  
“And how about now? Are we more or less uncomfortable?”

“So, are you saying that if you had become more comfortable after what I just did, it would be justified? Why not? That’s what you did, isn’t it? Did something – oh, being ‘honest’ about it – you think that makes a difference? You violated his trust, Albus. Oh! You were frightened! Albus, I don’t think he would –“

“But do you know that he wouldn’t?”  
Ariana was silent.  
“Have you seen anything I should know about, Ari?”  
“I don’t know. I am not supposed to be looking for anything, isn’t that right, Albus? So how could I possibly know anything that you don’t? Besides you aren’t so scared of Gellert hurting himself as you are of Gellert’s father hurting him. That was your bigger fear, wasn’t it – that Gellert would separate himself to protect you, and so make both of you _more_ vulnerable? Make _himself_ more vulnerable? ‘Better together,’ you say. And you’re right – who would have scanned him every night? Who would have known if he were injured? Or taken prisoner? Sure, you have those tattoos – which are very clever, by the way – have I told you before how clever they are? But if he were kept mostly unconscious, or paralyzed, or if his arm were removed – oh! Gods, I’m so sorry, Albus – I didn’t realize you hadn’t thought of that yet.”

No, he hadn’t thought of that. Now he had the image of some unknown figure mutilating Gellert in his head. He had plenty to worry about at the moment without adding something new. At least no one knew about Alttayir except for Gellert and himself. And Ariana. And maybe the Grindelwald family elves. And if so, Lord Grindelwald, also. This was giving Albus a headache.

“That’s right, I was frightened for his life, for his physical safety. You do see the difference, Dove? Gellert and I are – we’re still hurting a little, but nothing like we were a week ago – it’s _not an emergency_. No one is in any _danger_.”  
Albus was struck by what he had just said: ‘You do see the difference?’ And Ariana had said about Gellert, ‘I wanted him to see the difference.’ Annoying. He was scolding her for something that she knew very well that she was doing, intentionally, to justify herself. Unless she was just that mercurial.

Ariana nodded, a small smile on her face. “You had better go find him, reassure him that you are ok, and that you are taking his side in this…”  
“Which I am not thanking you for, by the way. Creating an artificial scenario to force me into siding with him over you – utterly unnecessary.”

“You’ve not seen - ”  
“Ari, that’s enough. I don’t want to know unless he tells me. _Leave Gellert alone._ And stay out of our marriage, do you understand? I love you, I do. But I cannot tolerate you interfering.”

Albus stood. He could not help but wonder if Ariana had intended this, too – for Albus to draw this line, to demonstrate his total loyalty to Gellert, even at Ariana's expense - not only for Gellert to see, but for him to see for himself as well.  
As he bent down to kiss his sister’s forehead, she confessed, “I don’t always know, myself.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Gellert stood up from the chair where he had been reading and stretched. Albus stared at him, transfixed – so gorgeous. He was torn between just admiring him from a distance, or pulling him into bed to hold him, lay on his chest, kiss him maybe. To run his hands over...

“So – who is going to be at the Potters’ tonight? I remember you said Sirius…”  
Gellert was clearly not thinking along the same lines as Albus was. Albus took a deep breath and shifted his focus.  
“Yes, Sirius will be there, and I don't imagine he's happy about it.”

The Headmaster’s wife, Ursula, had heard that Phineas was courting, and had left immediately for France. When she arrived, she had told Sirius that he was 'no longer needed to chaperone,' and that he was 'free to go home' for the social events that always marked the start of a new session of the Wizengamot. Albus had not thought that anyone would have been able to get Sirius to come back to Britain. He would have liked a chance to meet Madam Black before they had left. Albus wondered how much she knew about Phineas' inclinations, what she suspected the truth was about the situation with Bozena, and in what way she was most likely to intervene.

"His uncle, who is also named Sirius, will be there as well. So if you ask after Sirius - "  
Gellert laughed. “They’re _both_ going to be there? That won’t be complicated at all."  
“Right, so, the elder Sirius –“  
“Is Heir Black, correct?”

This surprised Albus. “Ye-es, how did you –“  
“He sits in the Black seat on the Wizengamot about half the time, when his father, Orion, can’t be bothered to attend. The wife of Heir Black died about twenty years ago. He never remarried, and they had no children. This means that the younger Sirius, the eldest son of Lord Black's second oldest son as well as Lord Black's oldest grandson, is almost certain to be Lord Black himself one day. Lord Black rarely attends these sorts of functions. He prefers to send his heir to represent him.”

“Gellert. When I first brought up Phineas to you, you said that there were too many Blacks to keep track of.”  
“There are. But everyone knows the important ones. Lord Black, Heir Black, Headmaster Black, Sirius. Lord Black’s brother, Cerberus, is currently serving as Supreme Mugwump. His son, also confusingly named Sirius, is not of obvious importance, but every Witch and Wizard who attended Durmstrang over the past twenty years knows his name, at least. He is the senior astronomy professor at Durmstrang.”

“ _Senior_ astronomy professor?”  
“We have two.”  
“That explains a lot,” Albus muttered. 

“Finally, there is now Phineas, who is going to become important, but he might not have done without your interference. It will probably be another year or two before all Europe knows him.”

“I hardly have to tell you about anybody!”  
“No, I only know about the Black family. This – when I was talking to you about the British disdain for ritual magic, and the resulting alterations made to the Hogwarts curriculum – this has weakened Britain’s position in Europe, politically. Technical advances are admired, of course, and other academic work, but ultimately the British are seen as Wizards who are ashamed to be Wizards, who are refusing part of their power.  
“Thanks to Professor Black’s position at Durmstrang, his family is known to continue the tradition of ritual magic, and so they have a political influence on the Continent that other British families don’t have, generally speaking. There are individual influential British Wizards – you are becoming one already – but as far as a powerful family that one would want a marriage alliance with? Among British families, it has only been the Blacks, at least in the past half century. The fact that they have so many more sons than daughters is bemoaned on the Continent.”

Albus wondered who these influential individuals were. It seemed important to know. The only politics that Albus knew anything about were British politics. He had never expected to be interested or involved in world politics. His life had entirely changed since meeting Gellert. What he cared about, how he saw himself. He wondered briefly what his life would have been without him. Boring, that much was certain. Dismal, probably. And would he ever have tested the limits of his power?  
In any case, the truth remained that he had spent his time at Hogwarts preparing himself to be a person of influence _in Britain_.

“So the Headmaster –“  
“Yes, he is going to present a problem. It will be necessary to position yourself against him, but if you succeed in that - "  
"Then I might be seen as having stood opposed to House Black?"  
" _Unless_ you have already cultivated several more desirable allies in the Black family, yes. The Headmaster is an ambiguous figure in Europe. It is not understood how a Black could govern Hogwarts and not return ritual magic to its rightful place in the curriculum."  
"But that's nearly impossible in Britain, politically! Much of that magic has already become socially unacceptable here, if not illegal."  
"I didn't understand that myself until I came here, but yes. Black miscalculated. Becoming Headmaster did not win him so much influence in Britain as he had hoped, and he lost some credibility in Europe. But he is still a Black, and a Halfblood - _any_ Halfblood - standing opposed to a Black - "

"I could, of course be subtle about it."  
"Yes, _you_ could, but he could not. He has been outspoken in his political views, and in his opinions about your family's place in his plans."  
Albus thought about this. He was aware of various political positions of Lord Black and his heir, but openly campaigning?  
"It seems - is the Black family usually so heavy-handed? This could have been another miscalculation. It might be possible to isolate him further, make it clear that he is not representative of the family -"  
"That would not be enough. You would have to be publicly embraced by other members of the Black family as well. Which they might be ready to do subtly, as a rebuke to Phineas Nigellus. They would never make an explicit statement, of course, but in their circles, a dinner in your honour, for instance, would be deafening." 

This was a challenge, but not an impossible one. The general public might see the family as a monolithic force, indivisible, and they had carefully cultivated that image. But Albus had learned from his Pureblood dormmates that Black family infighting was legendary. Learning to navigate their squabbles was critical - if a slight escalated into a feud, it would not do to find oneself on the losing side. In some ways, then, Albus had been preparing for such a campaign for years.

"To that end, it will be critical for you -"  
“For us – “  
“For us, ok, but mostly for you, to persuade Sirius and his uncle, minimally.”  
Yes, they were the two immovable pieces. But it would behoove Albus to determine the strength of every adult Black's connection to the Headmaster as well.  
“That will take time.”  
“You were waiting until Aberforth graduates, anyway. That’s two more years you would have to wait, at least.”  
That was true.

“So, you don’t know any other British families?”  
Gellert grabbed Albus’ hand and reeled him in until they were flush against one another.  
“I know the Dumbledore family,” Gellert said, kissing Albus. “The young head of that family is sexy, intelligent, powerful, creative. He is the most fascinating Wizard in all Europe.”  
“Not the world? Clearly that man is not working hard enough,” Albus said, smiling.  
Gellert shook his head, “The rest of the world doesn’t know his name yet, but they will.”

Albus was hoping for another kiss, but Gellert’s face fell and he turned his head, let go of Albus, and walked back to the wardrobe.  
“You haven’t even chosen what you will wear yet, have you, Albus? We haven’t much time.”

Albus didn’t need to cast a Tempus to know that they had at least two hours. He suspected that Gellert _intended_ for Albus to know that needing to dress was not the real reason he was breaking off physical contact. 

Since Ariana’s performance the morning before, things had taken a turn for the worse. Albus had thought that they were almost over what had happened, but now… now Gellert was back to feeling wary around Albus, and it was painful. He had gone from having his Gellert back most of the time to having him back only sporadically. How much time would it take to gain back the ground that they had lost?

Albus sighed. “Before we go, I should tell you about the Potters…”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus woke when it was still dark. He mustn’t have been asleep for long. He rolled over and reached for Gellert, but he was not there. He reached out with his magic – there he was, sitting in a chair by the cold fireplace.

Albus lit the coal without moving, and Gellert became visible, glowing in the light of the fire. Albus’ chest felt tight. He loved Gellert so much it made it difficult to breathe, sometimes. Gellert turned to look at him. He looked spent. It had been a busy day - research in the Ministry archives in the morning, an impromptu game of Quidditch at the Harleys' in the afternoon, and dinner with Bathilda, which had extended into a long evening discussing her most recent project. But that was no busier than many of their days had been - and Gellert hadn't looked half so exhausted when he first came to bed.

“It is late, Gellert. Have you slept at all?”  
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I have been out of bed a long time. I am sorry I woke you.”  
“You didn’t wake me, Love. Come lay down?”  
“You’re sure you want me in bed with you? I’ll keep you up.”  
“I’m counting on it,” Albus teased.

Gellert smiled wearily. “For once, that was not what I meant, Liebling.”  
“That’s a pity. But I’ll be glad of your presence either way.”  
Gellert returned to bed. Albus edged closer and laid his head on Gellert’s chest.  
“Is this ok?”  
“Mmhmm.”

“I don’t suppose I could persuade you to take off this nightshirt.”  
“No – I’m still cold, Liebling.”

Gellert did not own a nightshirt – he was wearing Albus’, and him having gone to the trouble of finding it and putting it on (when he only ever wore pants to bed, if he bothered to wear anything at all) could only have been meant to convey an intentional message – ‘don’t even ask.’  
It was not the case that they hadn’t had sex at all since their tentative reconciliation, but it had not been often, and it had been – cautious. Albus was wondering what it would take for them to get back to feeling easy with one another. He was confident that they would get there, but he couldn’t see the way forward. 

Albus pushed himself up, moving until he was on top of Gellert, looking down at him.  
“How about this? Is this ok?”  
Gellert smiled. “I suppose that depends upon the next thing you are planning to do.”  
“Only this,” Albus said, releasing an illusion he had been holding since Yule.

“Your hair! You –“  
“I’ve been growing it. Remember when you said that I was starting to look shaggy and needed a haircut? I decided to try holding an illusion instead, and – it worked!”

“You didn’t say anything,” Gellert said, but it wasn’t an accusation. His voice was hushed, reverent. He reached up and touched Albus’ hair.  
“I wanted it to be a surprise. Do you like it?”  
Gellert pulled Albus down to kiss him.  
“I love it. How long are you going to let it get?” 

“I don’t know. It was down to the middle of my back before, but – it’s not easy to care for when it is that long.”  
“You –“ Gellert said, punctuating the word with a kiss, “will not have to do anything. I will happily take care of it for you.”  
“You like it that much, do you? I thought you liked seeing my face!” Albus playfully accused.  
“I can see your face very well, only now it is framed by that beautiful red hair. When it gets longer...”

Gellert didn't finish his thought, instead rolling Albus over and vanishing the nightshirt he had pilfered. Albus gasped. He had expected that revealing his hair would garner a reaction, but he had not anticipated... He laid his hands on Gellert’s hips and ran his eyes slowly up Gellert’s body before meeting his eyes. He did not look tired now.

Gellert bent down and kissed Albus in a way they hadn’t kissed for days. It wasn’t hesitant, it wasn’t desperate, it wasn’t simply burning off steam. It was hungry, yes, but not starved. It was love that was sure it would be returned and need that was certain it would be met. It was Gellert. He was entirely there, entirely his. 

“I love you,” Albus said when Gellert broke the kiss. “I love you, I need you – Gellert –“  
“I have missed you, Liebhaber,” Gellert answered, playing with Albus’ now shoulder-length hair. “You are everything to me.”

Gellert moved so that his head was between Albus’ legs, and without a word, he engulfed Albus’ cock with his mouth. 

Albus’ whole body stiffened at the unexpected contact. His head tilted back and he moaned, “Gellert -”  
Gellert hummed in reply, and Albus’ brain stopped completely. He knew nothing but sensation - hot and soft; he knew nothing but Gellert - tight lips and curious tongue and hands everywhere, everywhere… Then, sweet fucking Merlin, the wet of a lubricating charm, and Gellert’s finger stroking his hole and finally pressing in slowly. 

“I want – Gellert – yes, please.” Then he moaned, “Du bist perfekt.”  
Gellert removed his mouth. “I am not.”  
“You are right now,” Albus answered. “Now and always. My -”  
Gellert smiled and inserted a second finger.  
“Perfeckt!!” Albus shouted.  
“Who am I to argue with such an intelligent man?” Gellert asked, and he returned his mouth to Albus’ cock long enough for him to shout and writhe his way to completion.

Gellert removed his fingers and then his mouth.  
“Please, Gellert – I need – please – in me?”  
Gellert sat back with a satisfied smile on his face.  
“That is absolutely on the agenda, Professor. Roll over please. I want to see our mark.”

Albus rolled over, and he felt Gellert running his fingers over the star their pact had marked him with.  
“You are my world, my heart, my partner,” Gellert said quietly.  
Albus recognized the opening words of their Respect vow, and answered with the next line: “I have chosen you for all that you are.”

Gellert kissed his way up Albus’ back, slowly, and when he reached Albus’ shoulders, he gently moved Albus’ hair to one side to kiss the back of his neck.  
“I love you,” he said, and then kissed him again. “I love you.”

“Gellert – “ Albus breathed. He needed -  
“Ready for me, Liebling?”  
“Please, Gellert –“  
Gellert pushed in slowly, giving Albus time to adjust along the way. It felt – like home. Gellert felt like home.

“I need – I want – unghhh – I missed you! So – much – Torture – not having you – so – gods! -”  
Albus had not meant to say that when Gellert was in him, but he was holding nothing back, and when he opened himself, when he released all control – when Gellert was in him, this sort of thing happened. He tensed up. Would Gellert – he didn’t want Gellert to think he was complaining – he just – this was everything – he had almost not remembered how good it felt to have Gellert in him, and –

“Shhh,” said Gellert, stilling for a moment. “It’s ok, Love. I missed you, too. So much.”  
He ran his hand down Albus’ back, and Albus relaxed. “Feels good – I love you, Gellert.”  
“I love you, too,” Gellert answered. He took Albus’ hand in his own, and as he started moving again, he laced his fingers with Albus’ and tightened his hold. Tears started falling from Albus’ eyes. He couldn’t have said why in the moment, only that he felt relieved, unburdened. 

When Albus came, Gellert was not yet close enough to tumble over with him. “Gods! Albus! So – yes, fuck –“ Albus smiled, relaxed and happier than he had been in weeks. He loved how Gellert reacted to feeling Albus come around him, loved knowing just how he was making Gellert feel right now, having felt Gellert’s orgasm grip him in just the same way. Albus loved feeling still full, still so close to Gellert – loved that their bodies were still locked together, and would be for a while longer. And he loved the steady rhythm of Gellert’s thrusts, building to this next part, Albus’ favourite part when he was the one who came first – being free to focus entirely on Gellert as he came, shouting inarticulately. 

Gellert pulled out slowly, and lay on top of Albus. Soon he would become too heavy, but for now? Being surrounded by Gellert was all he wanted.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus eyed the Sorting Hat over Headmaster Black’s shoulder. Interesting creature. He wished he could get some time with it alone, learn more about it. He had been fascinated by the Hat since receiving Aberforth’s letter, and his curiosity had been fed by Sirius and Phineas’ tales of growing up with the Hat.

Reluctantly, he returned his attention to the Headmaster. It was more necessary to focus on Black at the moment – but far less interesting. Black was predictable. Saying that he was ‘unavailable’ to meet anywhere besides Hogwarts, for instance – that was a transparent power move. There was no better way to underscore his position, his authority. At least his vanity and arrogance made Black vulnerable. He didn’t seem to understand how easy he was to manipulate. And so far he seemed utterly blind to the alliances that Albus was beginning to form with other members of his family. 

“So, young man. You said you wanted to see me?”  
Why did social convention require saying things like this? So inefficient. _Yes_ , he had said he wanted to see Black, as they both knew, or Albus wouldn’t be here at all. 

“Yes, sir. First of all, I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of Aberforth in my absence.”  
“It was my pleasure, boy.”  
_Boy._ As if Albus couldn’t wipe the floor with Black in every possible way. Well, it wouldn’t be much longer that Albus would be forced to play the role of supplicant Halfblood.

“If I might be so bold as to ask you for one further favour –“  
“Yes?” asked Black, smiling beneficently.  
“I have been wanting to travel to America. What you have been doing here, raising awareness of the Muggle problem… I would like to see first-hand how the Americans handle it. I understand that they have a policy of strict segregation?”  
“They certainly do, but – “

“I thought that I could go investigate their methods and then perhaps publish my findings. Perhaps as a Dumbledore… what I write might help people better understand the Muggle Problem. I can’t help but think –“ here Albus began to choke up. It was only partially affected – his throat was indeed tightening – with rage – “of all that you have been doing. For my sister and others like her.”

The Headmaster cleared his throat. “I have many children. I do understand that your mother left you with few resources, but –“  
“Oh, I’m so sorry sir. I didn’t make myself clear –“  
No, he hadn’t, but he had intended the misunderstanding. He had anticipated Black’s unwillingness to fund the trip, but he wanted the limits of Black’s patronage out in the open.  
“I can afford the journey. But I was hoping that you could provide a letter of introduction to someone at MACUSA? Or at Ilvermorny? With your connections…”

Albus trailed off suggestively. He noticed that the Hat had opened his eyes and was raising one eyebrow at him.

The Headmaster fixed his eye on Albus, as if considering him carefully.  
“You were one of our best students, young Mr. Dumbledore. I know you will represent us well.”

 _The_ best student. Of the decade, at least. And was Black using the royal we, now? Or claiming Albus, whose trip he was _not_ paying for, as family? Perhaps he was speaking for Hogwarts? Or Black’s nascent political movement? In any case, Albus had no intention of playing the role of feather in Black’s cap. But he was happy to lead him on for as long as was required.

“When were you thinking of leaving?”  
“Later this week, sir.”  
The Headmaster took out a piece of parchment and began grumbling, ‘this week, this week…’  
Albus took advantage of his distraction to wink at the Hat.  
“I had hoped that I could send a letter ahead of you, so that they could be prepared. Do you know the name of the ship you are departing on?”  
As if Albus had any intention of sharing that information with a man who might benefit from sharing it with Gellert’s father. 

“It – escapes my memory, I’m afraid. I’m sorry if I’ve caught you off guard. Perhaps – I ought not to have troubled you.”  
Albus stood. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for my family –“

The Headmaster fixed him with a stern expression, but there was little more he could do. Albus was no longer a student, so he need not wait to be dismissed. Albus noticed that Black’s arrogant displeasure was masking fear. Albus thought that he was likely realizing, perhaps for the first time, that Albus might slip through his fingers. 

“Not at all, Mr. Dumbledore. I would be delighted to provide a letter for you. Perhaps you would be willing to carry more than one letter? I can think of at least two introductions I would like to make for you, and perhaps a third… I was thinking that I might owl them to you tomorrow morning?”

There had never been any doubt that he would do it – Black liked to feel important, and he likely wanted Albus out of Britain for a bit longer. A trip to America would suit both of his purposes. Albus was relying on that being enough to keep him from examining Albus’ own purposes too closely.  
Albus sighed, as if relieved, and smiled. “That would be most helpful sir. Thank you.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The moment he appeared in Gellert’s cabin, Gellert crowded Albus against the wall, and placed his hands on either side of his shoulders, caging him in. He leaned in tantalizingly close.  
“What are you doing here, Dumbledore? Why are you not in _your room?_ ”

Albus could tell that Gellert was not really angry – mostly not angry. The corners of his mouth were turned slightly upwards, and his eyes were wide and his pupils dilated. Why he was insisting on returning to this…

“We’ve discussed it, Gellert. We have to at least appear to be staying in separate rooms, because –“  
“We have stayed together in one room everywhere before now.”  
Not when they were in Grein for Yule, but otherwise, yes.

“We stay in one _suite_ , or one _apartment_ – never a room like this!”  
The cabin couldn’t have been much more than 50 square feet, if that, containing a bed that appeared to be less than a yard across.  
“And _this_ was the best room available on this ship!”

“We could have gotten one of the rooms with bunkbeds,” Gellert insisted.  
Now he was just being absurd.  
“Oh? Would you have been interested in sharing with two people we do not know? Would you have liked to pretend to be a labourer for eight days?”

Albus was tired of being trapped against the wall. If Gellert wasn't going to take advantage, then he could give Albus some space. Albus pushed Gellert - with a little more force than he had intended. Gellert’s eyes widened and he began breathing heavily. Was that what he wanted, then? Physicality? Albus' heart started beating faster.  
“The rooms don’t matter, Gellert! I’m here now. Unless you would like for me to leave?”  
Gellert grabbed Albus’ hip and yanked him closer. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Gellert’s lips finally met Albus’ in a bruising kiss. Gods, he needed this. Needed more. Needed… not to lose sight of the game. Albus broke his mouth away from Gellert’s and growled. “You are mine, Mr. Grindelwald. I say when you get to kiss me -”  
Albus pushed Gellert onto the bed. “When you get to touch me -”  
Albus leapt onto Gellert just as Gellert was starting to get up, perhaps to try to wrest control back from Albus – and his forehead connected with Albus’ chin. 

“Fuck!” they shouted at the same time.  
Gellert fell back onto his back, and Albus sat next to him, rubbing his chin.  
“Are you ok?” Albus asked, cautiously reaching out to touch Gellert’s forehead. Gellert batted his hand away. “Don’t –“

Then Gellert turned his head and looked at Albus, and his tone softened. “You?”  
“I think I’m – I think my tongue is bleeding, maybe. Definitely.” He winced.  
Gellert sighed. “Come here.”

Gellert sat up, gently laid his hand on Albus’ cheek, and closed his eyes. Instantly, all of the pain left Albus’ chin and tongue and lips.  
“My turn,” Albus said, taking Gellert’s hand from his face and kissing it. “Wand, Love?”  
“Wand?”  
“Yours is potentially more complicated. I don’t want to have given you a concussion.”

“A concussion? Albus, you are exaggerating.”  
“Humour me, Gellert.”

Gellert sighed and summoned the Wand, then handed it to Albus.  
With one hand, Albus pointed the Wand at Gellert’s head, while the other cradled Gellert’s neck. Albus gently stroked Gellert’s jawline with his thumb. Albus looked and found the areas where Gellert was injured, and through the Wand, he channelled healing and soothing magic into every painful place.

“That’s – far better,” Gellert admitted. “I don’t think you needed the Wand, though. I think you just wanted me to hand it to you so that I would stop being angry.”  
“Oh, angry, were you?” Albus laughed. “That’s not why I did it, but what a fortuitous side effect. And here we are in bed together… uninjured, as if nothing had happened…”

Gellert leaned forward and kissed Albus, far more gently than they had been doing. But then, actually injuring one another did somewhat spoil the ‘wrestling for dominance’ mood.  
Albus didn’t have time to evaluate it much further, as Gellert deepened the kiss and lowered Albus onto the bed.  
“I love you,” Gellert murmured before kissing Albus again. “I love you, Albus Dumbledore.”

The Headmaster's letters of introduction had arrived as promised on the morning of their departure. Albus was out buying breakfast, so Gellert had taken it upon himself to examine them. The letters had a magical seal that could be broken only by the intended recipient, but Gellert theorized that the Elder Wand would enable him to read the letters - and establish that they contained no hidden messages - without opening them. He would not be able to decipher any encoded subtext that was based on the recipient's unique knowledge, of course, but if the spell worked, then the literal meaning of the letters would be open to them.

"Black was generous in his introduction of you," Gellert reported, handing the letters to Albus when he returned, "but he thought it necessary to warn the recipients of my 'prior political views.'"  
How had Albus not anticipated this? Gellert's opinions about the Statute being known had been Albus' greatest concern in coming to America, and now he could only blame himself...  
Albus told himself that even if they had to discard the letters, the visit to the Headmaster was not entirely a waste - the visit itself had been satisfying. And this new evidence that the Headmaster was not so obtuse as he seemed - that was an important discovery. But going to Black had been such a risk - there was no guarantee that he would not report Albus and Gellert's travel plans to Lord Grindelwald. 

"He didn't cast me in a bad light entirely," Gellert continued. "He did suggest that you 'might have had a positive influence' on me, but... yes, I'm afraid that he did follow that up with the warning that I might be 'a recalcitrant opponent to all that we stand for.'"  
Albus laughed. "Oh, recalcitrant? Who knew Black could be so insightful?"  
Gellert gestured rudely to Albus, and Albus laughed harder.  
Gellert rolled his eyes and snatched the letters back. 

Albus sobered. "Yes, I suppose we will have to discard them, then."  
"Not at all. I managed a mild compulsion on each letter, so that the reader will instead understand the words to mean that you have indeed had 'a positive influence on young Mr. Grindelwald' and that I am 'no longer an opponent' to their 'goals.' _Recalcitrance_ , you see, has its uses."

Albus was relieved that the letters were not, in fact, useless, and he had not needlessly put them at risk. He likely would have taken precautions in any case, but knowing that Emmerich might be on guard had led Albus to be doubly careful. It had been a matter of some difficulty finding an appropriate boat that was leaving the day after his scheduled meeting. They made it to the departure point in the most misleading way possible, starting by apparating to Liverpool, then taking an illegal international portkey to Antwerp, and finally using the Wand to apparate long-distance to Gibraltar, arriving minutes before boarding was to begin.  
There had been other boats – boats with superior accommodations. Gellert's complaint was not entirely unwarranted - they could have shared a suite if Albus had chosen a different line, a different port. But Gibraltar had seemed safest to him – it seemed unlikely that anyone would suspect them of choosing that port.

As far as Albus was concerned, being in separate rooms was not a problem at the moment, but when they arrived in America, they were not going to be able to use their magic to move between rooms. Albus was not sure how far from shore the Americans were monitoring, or how they did it, or what kinds of magic they were able to detect. He was going to have to assume _all_ kinds until he knew for sure. Which meant, to Gellert’s chagrin, that they would be sleeping apart from one another on the last night on board. Albus would have been more comfortable sleeping separately the last two nights, but he had known from the beginning that Gellert would never agree to that. He had opened negotiations with the suggestion of spending the last three nights apart, just to get Gellert to agree to one.

That one morning on the boat without Gellert was going to be as much of a hardship for Albus as it was for his husband. Thankfully, Albus would not have to worry about that for a few more days. There was nothing like lying in a shared bed, enjoying his warm, sexy… Albus’ eyes opened; Gellert was not in bed with him!  
Albus propped himself up on his elbows. Gellert was not only out of bed - he was not in the room _at all_. He spotted a cup of tea under stasis sitting on the bedside table, a slice of lemon cake (for breakfast?!), and a note: ‘Happy Birthday, Kätzchen – I’ll be back in a moment – G’

Albus smiled – where had Gellert gotten this slice of cake? It didn’t matter. What was even better than the cake was that Gellert had gone to the trouble of waking _before Albus_ just to surprise him with a ridiculously indulgent breakfast. Staying in bed with a slice of cake did sound tempting, but first, it seemed wise to take advantage of being free of his distracting husband, and get ready for the day. 

Albus was at the washstand, bare from the waist up, when Gellert returned.

“We are going - " Gellert broke off, and Albus turned around. Gellert was regarding him hungrily.  
"Where are we going?"  
"Nowhere right now," Gellert answered, advancing on Albus and laying a hand on his chest. "No, right now we are -" 

Albus laughed and kissed Gellert on the nose. "Right now, you are telling me what you were going to say. _Then_ you can do whatever you are intending to do with me."  
Gellert's hand moved to Albus' waist, and then around his back, pulling him closer. He sucked on Albus' neck and then spoke softly into Albus' ear. "How would you like to go on an adventure?"  
"Hmm. Is this a round about way of inviting me back to bed? Because I don't know if you had noticed, but we are in the middle of the ocean, and the past three days have been more than sufficient for me to become familiar with every inch of this boat - so any other kind of adventure -”

Gellert stepped away from Albus, pulled out the Elder Wand, and waved it dramatically. “Long distance apparition, Liebling!”

Albus had not thought of it before now, but now that Gellert had said it, he realized that apparating off the boat was entirely possible. They had rejected apparition as an option for travelling to America, not only because they had never been and didn’t know what to focus on as a destination, but also because they didn’t want to expose their ability in that way, and because New York customs was meant to be the only point of entry into the United States for Witches and Wizards. But the _distance_ would have been no problem, at least theoretically. Which meant that they could apparate off the boat as long as they apparated back soon enough not to be conspicuously absent.

“It’s your birthday, Albus. And our anniversary – the only anniversary we will be able to celebrate in Paris this year. Let’s go?”  
“To Paris? You are sure?”  
Gellert smirked, “Do not make me reconsider the offer.”  
Albus laughed. “Yes, let’s go. But first I need to finish getting dressed, and eat my cake, and –“

“And come have an adventure in bed with your husband?” Gellert asked hopefully.  
“I think you mean my _overdressed_ husband,” Albus answered, vanishing all but Gellert’s pants. “Happy anniversary,” he murmured, before capturing Gellert’s lips with his own.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus had ordered the Elder Wand to sleep, to hide. They had not trusted to leave it behind anywhere, but they also didn’t want the Americans to know about it. When the time came to register their wands, they each presented their own wand – the wands their parents had purchased for them long ago.

Thanks to Phineas Nigellus (and Gellert's clever spells), they were equipped with glowing letters of introduction for the Headmaster of Ilvermorny, the Auror Commissioner, and the patriarch of a wealthy and powerful family – Charon Phillips. Mr. Phillips immediately invited them to stay in his home. Albus agreed, but told them that they were intending to stay in New York for only one week, because they were also wanting to visit the Wizarding Communities in San Francisco and St. Louis. This was true, but more importantly, a week was as long as he and Gellert could tolerate sneaking around. 

Mr. Phillips proved to be as valuable a contact as the other two Americans, answering Albus and Gellert’s questions about the Magical child adoption program, introducing them to Witches and Wizards who served on the Magical Congress, and offering witty commentary on the newspaper every morning. Philips even invited the President to dinner one evening so that they might meet him. 

But as far as Albus was concerned, even meeting the President did not compare to meeting Penelope Graves, the Director of Magical Security. 

“I understand that you are interested in complete Magical isolation from Muggles – that the British Wizengamot is considering such a proposal?”  
“No one has gotten so far as to make a proposal yet. We are still in the early days. There are too many opponents to move forward without more information. It is my impression that no nation has been so successful with this as the United States –“

“The United States is the Muggle government. The Magical Community does not have states – we have one undivided government.”  
“But the name –“  
“Yes, the Magical Congress of the United States. We are well overdue for a change. The name predates Rappaport’s Law. When we closed our community, it seemed dangerous to allow for any variations in law enforcement. We do have districts in order to make governing easier, but those districts have no power to make or enforce their own laws. Our laws are uniform, and law enforcement's chain of command is clear. Our centralized government is the very thing that has enabled us to be, as you have said, more successful than any other nation in responding to the Muggle threat. The Muggles, on the other hand, have persisted in their committment to a federal government, even after their disastrous civil war. A war that might have been avoided if they had not divided themselves into semi-autonomous states.”

Interesting. Albus no more believed that the mere existence of states was responsible for the American Civil War than he believed that Cromwell was a figment of his imagination. But if this blind spot of Graves' was shared by other top MACUSA officials...  
“I see. My apologies.”

A man came up behind Penelope, a fond smile on his face.  
“You do not need to apologize, Mr - ?”  
“Dumbledore.”  
“Mr. Dumbledore. Penelope has strong opinions on this matter of our name. Few other Americans are so –“  
“ – invested –“ Penelope offered.  
“ – pedantic as my sister.”  
He silently and exagerratedly mouthed 'MACUSA' to his sister, and she rolled her eyes.

The Wizard held out his hand and introduced himself, “Arthur Musgrove.”  
“Albus Dumbledore.”  
“Gellert Grindelwald.”

“So. You came to see how we steal children from their families?”  
“Arthur!” Penelope hissed. She turned to Albus and Gellert. “It is my turn to apologize – for my brother’s seditious behaviour.” She turned back to her brother. “You are going to get yourself into trouble, Arthur. And perhaps lose me my job, if I indulge you too often. Why are you here?”

“Percival. He seems to have the Sasquatch fever, and the doctor doubts he will be well enough to leave for school on Sunday. It looks like he is going to miss at least the first week of this term.”  
“He was fine when I last saw him.”  
“Which was Tuesday, Penelope. Do you ever leave this building other than to sleep?”

“Please excuse me,” Penelope said, leading her brother to an office and shutting the door behind them.

“Sasquatch fever?” Albus asked.  
“I could not begin to tell you. It must be unique to America.”  
“Unless we end up carrying it back to Britain – who knows if Penelope is carrying it?”  
“We don’t know anything about it Albus. It might not be contagious. Let’s wait before we draw any conclusions.”

Penelope and Arthur returned.  
“I am very sorry, gentlemen. I’m afraid that I am needed at home. I have asked my brother to show you the hex map. He can tell you more about our enforcement procedures over lunch, if you are available?”  
“I think that would be fine,” Gellert answered. “Albus?”  
“We have no other plans.”

This would be fascinating. Albus did not trust that Arthur was truly against Rappaport’s Law – it was possible, for instance, that he was an agent gauging their true motives and interests. They would have to maintain their cover. But simply hearing some of the arguments against the law would be interesting.

Penelope took her leave, and Arthur led them into the Conference Room of the Major Investigations Department.  
“The Hex Indicator map. You can see where hexes are being cast anywhere in the United States.”

“Are there simply not very many Magical citizens here?” Albus asked, already knowing the answer to that question. “It seems impossible to track all of the hexes – the map should be lit up at all times!”

“I should have been more clear. This indicates where hexes are being cast in No-Maj areas. When an area lights up, we first check with the Auror Department and the No-Maj obliviation department, to see if it is authorized magical activity. If not, then we dispatch a team of two Aurors, one Obliviator, and a member of the extraction team.”  
“Extraction team?”  
“The extraction team is trained in – kidnapping. Most often, the magic that we see is a first instance of accidental magic in a child born to No-Maj parents.”

“But,” Albus interrupted, “wouldn’t a child’s first spell more likely be a charm? Or perhaps a transfiguration?”  
“Well spotted! In spite of its name, the map shows all kinds of magic, not just hexes. Apparition is a frequent cause of violations, for instance. Just an impatient Wizard, forgetting the rules because they are inconvenient. Not that it likely causes that many problems. After all, how many problems has it caused in Britain?”  
“I cannot be sure, sir. I have not spoken with anyone on the Obliviation team at the Ministry of Magic.”

“Well, in any case there haven’t been riots, witch hunts. So, what harm would it do here for select Muggles – family members of Wizards and Witches, for instance – to know about the existence of magic?”  
“You seem opposed to the enforcement policies,” Gellert observed. “Are you opposed to Rappaport’s Law altogether?”  
“I am – uncertain. I used to serve on the extraction team, and I – there were too many children that I removed from loving homes. I made their parents forget they had ever existed. My nephew – if I had been forced to forget his existence? It is unfeeling. Unnatural.”

“So now?”  
“Now I am the Auror in charge of the Chicago district. It was considered a demotion, but I have no argument with investigating Wizard on Wizard crime. Law Enforcement is necessary. If you had waited just a week before leaving for America, I would have missed you. I took a week off to see Percival before he left for Ilvermorny. Unfortunately, it seems that I will be returning to work while he is still at home.”

Arthur changed the subject before Albus could ask after Sasquatch fever. “Lunch, gentlemen? There is an excellent delicatessen in the Upper West Side –“  
“Isn’t that a Muggle – sorry, No-Maj area?” Albus asked.  
“Oh, we’re allowed to _visit_ No-Maj areas. We just may not use any kind of magic there.”

“But, we won’t be able to –“  
“Talk? We can if we are careful. There’s – the No-Maj government has been taking Indian children from their parents to ‘civilize them.’ I was thinking that perhaps I might use the historic policies of Indian Removal, and the ongoing use of Indian Residential Schools to clandestinely talk about the impacts of Rappaport’s Law on the No-Maj and the Magical communities both.”

Gellert and Albus looked at each other.  
‘I like Arthur.’  
‘Be careful – we don’t know if he’s on our side, Gellert.’  
‘True. But there’s no denying he’s intelligent. And sneaky.' 

“We don’t know anything about the Indian situation,” Albus admitted to Arthur.  
“All the better. It will drive you to ask plenty of questions. The analogy isn’t perfect, but I am not ashamed to sound ignorant about the issue in order for the parallels to be more – parallel.”

'Perhaps violent,' Gellert continued. 'Do you think he could be violent?’  
Albus was not sure he liked Gellert talking this way about such an attractive and charismatic man.  
‘Salivating over him already?’  
‘Hush. Don’t be jealous. I'm all yours. I'm just - recruiting.’  
'Gellert -'  
' _In my imagination_ , Kätzchen. Reconnaisance this time, you said - I remember. I'm simply - gathering intelligence.'

Gellert laughed. “More parallel parallels. Excellent! Let us depart for your No-Maj delicatessen.”  
“We will have to use mundane transport,” Arthur apologized. “Apparition is not allowed into and out of No-Maj areas. Have you ever taken an elevated train?”

Albus decided he might like Arthur too, if for no other reason than that he was introducing Gellert to a new kind of train. Albus could feel Gellert's anticipation - his magic was reaching for Albus' in a way that reminded him of a child tugging at his mother's sleeve. Gellert appeared to be speechless, so Albus spoke for them both.  
“We have not ridden on an elevated train – it seems a very interesting way to see the city. I am sure that we will have lots of questions for you.”

Gellert’s enthusiasm was adorable. It was at times like this that Albus wanted to take Gellert into an empty room and snog the life out of him. (Not that Gellert would welcome a delay in getting to a train.) Unfortunately, it was impossible to so much as hold Gellert’s hand at the moment, so Albus contented himself with wandlessly simulating a kiss on Gellert’s cheek, and an arm around his shoulder. If Albus couldn’t _actually_ touch Gellert, he could at least let him know that he wished he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In language notes (the usual kind):  
> I had so wanted Albus to put a plan in motion to 'marginalize' the Headmaster, but that will not be possible until 1970.  
> Similarly, Albus is not going to be able to ‘up his game’ until the late 1960s, and until he gets to America, he is not going to learn the word ‘rehash.’ I remain committed to using period appropriate language. To that end, if you see me using a word that would not be used by a turn-of-the-century speaker of British English, let me know!  
> I am certainly putting my thesaurus through its paces, finding alternatives.
> 
> In other language notes - concerning the use of the word ‘Indian’:  
> The term ‘Native American’ did not come into use until the mid-20th century. Before then, 'Indians' was the blanket term used by non-indigenous peoples to refer to the peoples of the indigenous nations dwelling in the area designated ‘The United States.'  
> Some indigenous people today prefer ‘American Indian’ to ‘Native American,’ while others prefer the reverse. Both are designations that suited the European colonists, and later the White (and still later, White dominated) federal government, and White culture at large.
> 
> The use of these blanket terms belies the great diversity of indigenous nations. While researching this chapter, I found [ this piece of information:](%E2%80%9D) ‘A survey of American Indian college and high-school students, reported in _Native Americas_ [Winter, 1997], indicated that more than 96% of the youth identified themselves with their Indian nation, and more than 40% identified themselves solely in those terms.’ In other words, Cherokee, Navajo, Seminole, Lumbee, etc. are increasingly preferable to any blanket designation.  
> That said, blanket designations are helpful for describing / referring to prejudices / abuses that were / are directed at the indigenous peoples of the Americas as a whole – which is to say, it is difficult to talk about racializing and racism without reference to the racial designations (i.e. - 'Native American' and 'American Indian') that were created for the purpose of telling members of one group how to treat / mistreat members of another group. In this way, the lived experiences of ‘American Indians’ may share certain similarities, regardless of the national identity that better defines how these individuals see themselves.


	42. From Place to Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter than the more recent 9000ish word chapters, but it covers a lot of ground, and Colorado seemed the right place to end this one.
> 
> Language note:  
> Odd as it felt for me, an American, to be using British spellings in the dialogue when an American is speaking… I finally landed on the side of spelling ‘favor’ as ‘favour,’ even when it is in the mouth of a Californian.  
> The reasoning is that it would be tremendously distracting for me, as a reader, to be switching back and forth between American and British spellings in a dialogue between, for instance, Albus and a MACUSA official.  
> Furthermore, there has already been plenty of dialogue in French and German (as well as bits of other languages) that I’ve written in British English, so it is already obvious that I am not going for perfect accuracy when it comes to people who are not speaking British English. May as well be consistent, and use the British spellings for everyone. Unless it is a word used only in the U.S. during that time period. (Which hasn’t happened yet, but I reserve the right to toss in a _y’all_ or two in future chapters.)  
> I hope that the spelling does not prove to be off-putting.
> 
> In other news, I have discovered the publication _The Monthly Weather Review_ – one more thing to obsess over. Thankfully not tremendously relevant to my plot, aside from the indication that Chicago did have an earlier than usual frost warning that September.

Chapter 39  
September 1900

Gellert had been quiet for a long time. Albus put down his book and rubbed his eyes. He looked up and saw his husband at the desk, golden in the lamplight. He could happily live in this moment for the rest of his life, admiring Gellert’s luminous face, accented with sharp shadows… his posture, relaxed tonight, as if he were more satisfied than challenged by what he was studying… the way he absentmindedly brushed back a strand of hair without breaking his concentration on… whatever it was. What was Gellert thinking about? Albus was curious, but not curious enough to interrupt.

“What is it, Albus?” Gellert asked without even looking up, amusement in his voice.  
“Ten after ten.”  
Gellert laughed and set down his quill.  
“I didn’t ask what _time_ it is! I’m asking what you _want_.”  
“Oh? Hmm. Well I had been content to simply watch you do whatever you were doing, but now that you are paying attention to me –“  
“Yes?”  
“Now I can ask you what you are doing,” Albus finished in a matter of fact voice, with only the smallest smile to give himself away. 

Gellert looked Albus in the eyes and rolled up his sleeves. He stood up, pulled his hair back in both hands, closed his eyes and tipped his head a bit back, and with a groan, he stretched, pulling his shirt tight against his chest and lifting it almost but not _quite_ high enough to expose some skin.  
Even as Albus felt himself growing hard, he couldn't help but laugh.  
“I see. The answer is that what you are doing is putting on a show for me.”  
“A show? Perhaps I just have a backache from bending over the desk for so long.”  
“Is that right?”

Albus vanished Gellert’s shirt and summoned a pot of oil. Gellert raised an eyebrow.  
“Turn around,” Albus said, getting out of bed.  
“Happily,” Gellert answered with a smirk. He turned and leaned forward on the desk, vanishing his trousers. Albus immediately replaced them.  
“Oh no, if your back is hurting that badly, I think we need to take it easy on you tonight.” 

Albus dipped his fingers in the oil and rubbed it on his palms, then began rubbing Gellert’s shoulders. He bit his lip. It was very tempting to reach around and unbutton Gellert’s trousers… but he was determined to maintain control. And to enjoy the feel of Gellert’s shoulders (and back, and neck, and…) beneath his hands.

“I was joking, Albus – I’m fi – iiii – ooooh… Keep doing this?”  
Albus spelled the oil off his hands and moved them, wrapping his arms around Gellert. He held him tight and kissed his neck.  
“I will, but I think it would be better in bed. You are putting all your weight on your shoulders, which is counterproductive.”  
He stepped away and gently swatted Gellert on the arse.

Gellert turned around and looked at Albus cautiously.  
“Just teasing about no sex, then – right?”  
“Just teasing,” Albus confirmed, laying one hand on Gellert’s face and kissing him gently.  
“Then I think I can let you give me a backrub.”  
“Oh, very generous,” Albus said with a smile.

Sometime later, they were laying on their sides in bed, looking at one another. Gellert was playing with Albus’ hair. A year ago, Albus might have thought that Gellert was focused only on him, but he noticed now that Gellert was wide awake, and thinking about… something not Albus. Something he could not rest before attending to.  
It was unusual - after sex, Gellert was rarely interested in anything other than sleep or more sex – but it was not unprecedented. Albus had learned that there was no use trying to keep Gellert in bed at these times. He wished Gellert would come to understand that it was ok to tell him when he needed to get out of bed, instead of trying to hide it.

“Feeling restless, Angel?”  
“It can wait, Schatz. I don’t want to keep you up."  
Truly, having him in bed this way was far more likely to keep Albus awake.  
"And you were up before the sun this morning,“ Gellert continued.  
“And how would you know that, sleepyhead?”  
“Oh, my cranky husband told me all about it over breakfast.”

“Cranky?!” Albus protested playfully, hopping out of bed and grabbing Gellert’s hand. “Get up, you! Show me what you have been working on!”  
Instead of joining Albus, Gellert pulled Albus back into bed with him.  
“I don’t need for you to get out of bed in order for me to tell you what I have been working on. I’ve been replotting our trip, which means filing new portkey applications.”

“Portkey – oh! That’s right! You picked up the applications in the District office this afternoon. You said that we needed to change our itinerary.”  
“Mmhmm.”  
“You haven’t told me why, though.”  
“You haven’t asked.”

Albus waited, but Gellert didn’t say any more. He sat there looking at Gellert for more than a minute before Gellert broke into a wide smile.  
Infuriating! Albus shoved Gellert’s shoulder, toppling him onto his back, then he climbed on top of him.  
“Very well, Gellert – why do we need to change our itinerary?”  
“Thank you for asking, Albus,” Gellert said, laughing. He pushed Albus off of him and proceeded to get out of bed.  
“Gellert!”  
Gellert turned back to face Albus, lip twitching. He bent down and kissed Albus on the tip of his nose.

“Don’t patronise me, Gellert Grindelwald.”  
“I’m not! I love your nose. It looked like it needed a kiss.”  
Albus sighed and affected his best disappointed and impatient look.  
“You could at least tell me _how_ you wish to change our itinerary. Are we staying in the States longer? Or are we changing where we are going while we are here?”  
“Yes. And also yes.”

Albus sat up and rolled his eyes.  
“You _were_ planning to consult me?”  
“Of course!” Gellert answered, throwing on a dressing gown. “I am consulting you now.”  
“Not really – I still don’t know exactly how, or when, or why – oh! You want us to still be here when Bozena and Phineas get married! So that no one will connect us to… Oh. That is, if they - “  
“They will. Rather, they have. Almost certainly. It is never _entirely_ certain of course, but in this case…”

Albus got up from the bed and walked to the window. Gellert had seen what was going to happen and hadn’t told him. He wanted to be happy that their plan had worked, but –  
He felt Gellert’s arms wrap around him from behind, and he tensed.

“Oh, Liebling, I’m so sorry. That must have been when I…”  
When Gellert had not been speaking to him.  
“I meant to tell you, truly, and I didn’t realize that I hadn’t – what else do I think you know that I’ve forgotten?” Gellert was beginning to sound distraught. “Albus, I would never, never – “

Albus sighed. Gellert hadn’t meant to do it. He could hear it in his voice.  
“Hush, Liebling. Hush. It is ok. I love you. There were bound to be things that were missed.“ 

Albus carefully peeled Gellert’s hands off of him and turned around. He sat on the windowsill, facing Gellert, holding his hands. “Can you tell me now? Your vision?”  
“I don’t know much. That morning when we went to the Ministry, as we were leaving, as we were walking towards the floo, I saw Phineas and Bozena and Phineas’ mother, whom I have not seen before, and Sirius. Phineas’ hand was laid gently on Bozena’s back, and Bozena seemed – not happy, but not unhappy. I saw them standing before an official… they were getting married in an office in the Ministry. It looked to be – three weeks in the future? A little less? So – it could be today, or earlier this week, but – yes. It would be very difficult for the future to change in such a short time – someone would have had to have done something uncharacteristic. Perhaps several someones. I will be astonished if we do not have word of their marriage upon our return.”

Albus would not have expected that the Black family would stand for such a thing as a hasty Ministry wedding, but perhaps they had no choice – they must have been in a hurry to make it impossible for Bozena to be married to the man her father had selected for her. Surely there would be a big wedding later. 

Albus smiled tentatively. “That’s excellent news, then.”  
“Albus, I –“  
“I _know_ , Angel. It's in the past. _I love you._ ”  
Albus stood and kissed Gellert. He did not want for them to needlessly descend into this spiral. He needed for them to get back to where they had been, which had been…

“Any more apologies, and I am going to begin to believe that you are trying to distract me from the changes you are making to our travel plans! More visions?”  
“Yes. I have seen us in Chicago – I’m not sure why. There was a lake. It was cold. We were walking in a Muggle area and couldn’t use a warming charm. I don't know why we were there, but it seemed important. And on the return trip through the Rocky Mountains we encountered snow. I don't know if that will cause a delay, so I want to schedule enough time in Chicago to allow for arriving later than we had hoped." 

That was unusually vague of Gellert - he must be holding something back. And doing it so obviously suggested an invitation to a private conversation. They had continued their practice of selectively hiding certain conversations with legilimency, allowing for the slim possibility that Manni had managed to stow away with them to America, in spite of their precautions.  
Arguably, they didn’t have to be as careful as they had been in Europe – if Manni were in fact spying on them, he wouldn’t be able to travel back and forth to Europe by apparition - it was too far.  
But the less Manni knew, the better, so they were doing their best to mitigate a risk which might not even exist. Albus was going to be glad when they found an elf - he was eager for them to return to speaking freely to one another.

“That is too bad. I had been looking forward to being in Britain before October.”  
‘Tell me?’  
'I did see us beside a lake, freezing because we couldn't use a warming charm. And going back to our room to warm one another up. Do you want to see? Or to be surprised?'  
Albus was already surprised. He had only heard of two of these visions, and they both had been significant for other reasons.  
'How often do you see us having sex?'  
Gellert grinned. 'More often than you know, and less often than I'd like.'  
“October. We might be able to manage that,“ Gellert said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Albus sat down beside him and kissed him deeply, still thinking about Gellert having visions of the two of them together. He worked his hand into Gellert's dressing gown, wrapping an arm around him, then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes.  
'Why Chicago?'  
‘Arthur is in Chicago –‘

Arthur. Albus removed his hand from Gellert's robe and leaned back.  
‘Gellert –‘  
‘Arthur is going to join us,’ Gellert insisted. ‘And his nephew, too.’  
‘That does not mean he is on our side now.’  
‘I am not actually an idiot, Albus.’

Yes, that had been the wrong thing to say. Albus put a hand on Gellert’s cheek.  
‘I know, Angel, I’m sorry – I just – America is such a foreign place – it is unsettling. And I – when we’re speaking like this… that was an instinctual reaction, not a judgment on you.’  
“I trust you, Gellert. If you say we need to go to Chicago – we will go to Chicago.”

‘You want to strengthen that connection a little more, then?’  
'Albus. You know you have nothing to worry about, right? I love you. Only you. Besides, Arthur does not seem to be interested in that way. I think he is one of your celibates.'  
Albus sighed. One of _his_ celibates?  
'I didn't mean it that way, Gellert. Well, maybe a little. But mostly, I meant to inquire if your purpose in seeing him again is to create a solid basis for a future alliance.'  
‘Yes, but I am also hoping to get more insight into what is going to happen here in the future, as well, and – perhaps being around Arthur will trigger that.’

“What do you propose, Gellert?”  
“We stay here another two days, then on to San Francisco for a week, then back through the Rockies –“

‘Yes! You said something about our layover –‘  
‘I made that up – I haven’t seen anything about that.’  
‘This country is too large. I hate that it takes three separate portkeys to get from New York to California.’  
‘This will prove to be an advantage later, Liebling.’

Albus did not have a chance to ask Gellert what he meant before Gellert had moved on.  
“And then we stay in Chicago for a week - or more, depending on the snow - and finally back to New York.”  
‘And we haven’t been to Ilvermorny yet. And we should spend some more time with Mr. Phillips. But I don’t want father’s elf to know that we will be staying in New York more than a day or two.’  
‘How long are you thinking?’  
‘A week? But we don’t need any permits to stay in New York however long we want, so there is no need to decide now – we can continue discussing that.’

So. They would be in America for four weeks, perhaps more – longer than Albus had intended, in any case. But Gellert had had no difficulties restraining himself so far. Perhaps Albus had been too cautious before.

“That sounds good to me, but do you really have to fill out these forms right now? It’s so late.”  
Albus knew that the answer was yes, knew that there was no getting Gellert back into bed now that he was out and wearing a dressing gown, but he couldn’t resist trying. Gellert had been right to say that Albus was tired, that he had not gotten much sleep the night before. He was starting to fade.

“I’d like to have it to the office as soon as they open tomorrow. We aren’t meant to be in St. Louis much longer, and it will take some days to process our request.”  
“Can I help? Perhaps you would finish faster, if –“

Gellert laughed. “You, sir - ” he punctuated this address with an index finger to Albus’ chest, "are fit only for bed."  
He laid his hand on Albus and lightly pushed him, tumbling the sleepy Wizard back onto the bed.  
“I will finish faster if you stay here just like this. My naked, half asleep husband, still in bed and waiting for me to return so he can wrap himself around me? Yes, you staying here will be _highly_ motivating.”

“But what if I fall _all the way_ asleep before you return?”  
“I suppose I will have to work fast enough so that that will not happen.”  
“You were that close?”  
“Quite close. I could only have been stopped by an insurmountable obstacle. You, my Love, are an unparalleled distraction.”  
Albus blushed at the praise, but answered boldly, “Perhaps it is everything else that is a distraction from me.”  
“Well said.”

Gellert squeezed Albus’ hand and stood up.  
“Ten minutes, no more. Wait for me?”  
Albus turned around, laying on his belly, facing the desk.  
“Eagerly.”

Albus watched Gellert move his quill fluidly across the page, periodically stopping to roll his eyes and huff impatiently before continuing.  
And as Albus watched, he wondered, what did Gellert mean by ‘join us?’ What had Gellert seen? And how exactly was their future tied to the future of America? 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The moment they arrived in the San Francisco district office, Albus and Gellert were taken to the office of the Chief Auror. He directed them to sit in the two chairs across from his desk while he examined their permits.

“It says here you are on a fact-finding tour?”  
“That’s right.”  
“And what sort of – facts – are you hoping to find, Mr… Dumbledore and… Grindelwald?”  
“There is currently a debate in Britain about whether to further isolate ourselves from Muggles. We are wanting to learn more about the American system as a possible model for a new British system.”

“I see. You’re _that_ Dumbledore.”  
“I’m sorry?”  
“Ah. No one has said anything to you. Probably thinking they’re being polite. They’re not doing you any favours pretending that they don’t know – that they aren’t thinking about it. The tragedy of your sister – it was news here. My condolences on the death of your mother.”

News. His mother’s death, his sister’s hospitalization… all of it had been reported in America. In hindsight, he realized that it had been inevitable – the story reinforced the Americans’ view of Muggles. Why wouldn’t the newspapers leverage his family’s private business in this way, just as Black had done?

“Thank you, sir, but my mother died a year ago. We must all – carry on.”  
“Of course. Young men, always living in the present and looking to the future.”  
Dismissive? Or judgmental? Albus could work with dismissive. Judgmental would be - not impossible, but certainly more difficult.

“I imagine that I can trust a Dumbledore to know the dangers of mixing with Muggles? Nevertheless, I would be remiss if I did not make it plain that we will not tolerate you ‘learning more about the American system,’ as you say, by defying that system.”  
“Certainly not, Auror…” Albus pretended to only just now notice the nameplate on the man’s desk. “Auror McRae.”

“My apologies – “ Gellert interrupted. “I’m not clear – was there something in particular that you were concerned about us doing or not doing?”  
“Yes, Mr. Grindelwald. We are currently under lockdown in San Francisco. You may not enter any No-Maj areas, unless escorted by someone from this office, and even then, only when it is clear that I have authorized such an excursion. There is a plague among the Muggles at the moment, and we cannot have it spreading to the Magical community.”

“Plague?”  
Albus was alarmed.  
“If you want to know more, you can make an appointment to meet with Helga Strom, the chief medical officer at MACUSA. She has come to us from New York to monitor the situation. But now, my deputy will escort you to the floo, and from there to the Golden Poppy – I’m not sure what other arrangements you may have made, but that is the only hotel in Snallygaster, which is our protected Wizarding district.  
“I’m afraid that we were only able to get you one room. Every Witch and Wizard in the city who lives or works anywhere outside of Snallygaster has been ordered to move into the Poppy until the danger has passed.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, sir, where are you getting your food, if you have ended all contact with Muggles?”  
“Excellent question, Mr. Dumbledore. Food is being brought in by couriers, via portkey. Now I believe… yes, there’s your escort, gentlemen.”  
Auror McRae stood and handed Albus their papers. “Welcome to San Francisco.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

They were stuck in San Francisco. McRae was a stickler for the rules, and their portkey permit was for the 17th – still four more days away. 

“You would think that he would want to be rid of us! It is not as if he were glad that we are here.”  
“He is perhaps hoping that we will throw ourselves into the ocean, out of boredom.”  
Albus smiled at his dramatic husband. “You forgot to lay your wrist against your forehead when you said that.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“It means that I am not _quite_ bored enough to throw myself into the ocean. And neither are you.”  
“Not yet. But there are still some days left.”

It was true that there was not much to do. Snallygaster was tiny compared to – anywhere else they had been – the only thing that was worth visiting there was the bookshop. There was no library there, no café, one restaurant outside of the hotel, and a saloon. San Francisco must not have a very large Wizarding population, if every Witch and Wizard in the city were truly collected in this one small area.

The District office was not very large, and there was not much to be gained from going there - anymore. The third day in San Francisco, McRae had caught Gellert chatting with the Wizard in charge of the records room and ‘invited’ him to coffee in his office to discuss exactly what he was looking for. Gellert told the truth: he had been searching for arrest records for violations of Rappaport’s Law. However, he was not honest about why – he had wanted to see how strict the enforcement was in this area, how infractions were detected, and who had been arrested – in hopes of finding potential allies. When Gellert arrived back at the room and told him about it, Albus was glad for what a skilled Occlumens Gellert was.

Gellert was becoming impatient with the restrictions and had suggested that they attempt to elude the Aurors and try entering No-Maj San Francisco. ‘I imagine that the Elder Wand could mask itself, hide from whatever detection apparatus they have here.’ But Albus was not inclined to risk further antagonizing the Chief Auror, nor in contracting this plague, and Gellert conceded the point. 

Increasingly, they spent time in their room. Albus was composing the first draft of the article he had promised _The Daily Prophet_. It was going to need to be carefully worded, so that anyone who read it quickly might think that it supported whatever their point of view on the matter was – and anyone who read it carefully would be persuaded – if they were persuadable - that Rappaport’s Law was a disaster.  
Gellert, for his part, was using the downtime to translate some of Albus’ articles into German – and to whine about how awful San Francisco was. Albus learned not to joke about it being almost as bad as Paris. 

When they spent time outside of the room, they were typically in the saloon, striking up conversations, learning what ordinary Wizards thought about the No-Maj and about life under MACUSA. It was telling, just how careful everyone was in what they would say. The main information conveyed by their words were, ‘we are too afraid to answer with honesty.’ Albus read a couple of them – the fear ran deep.

The day after Gellert’s declaration of terminal boredom, they had what would prove to be the most informative experience of their stay in California: they met with Healer Strom. 

She had been given an office at the station, but seemed disinclined to meet there.  
“I have secured permission from the District Chief to escort the two of you out of Snallygaster. I thought that we might take a carriage over the peaks. The Chief wants me to take you to Chinatown to see the plague, but I don’t know how productive that will be, and I outrank him.”

That might be true, but Albus and Gellert did _not_ currently outrank him.  
“That’s fine, if we don’t go to Chinatown. Perhaps we should just stay here, rather than risk –“  
“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Dumbledore. There’s really no risk for small excursions. I have a screening room set up here as a sort of vestibule between No-Maj San Francisco and Snallygaster. I’ve devised a screening spell – luckily, we have centuries of experience treating bubonic plague, so the treatment is quick and flawless. We’d have you back in Snallygaster in under a day. The problem is only that I cannot screen dozens of people a day, and I cannot monitor anyone who is staying outside of Snallygaster. That is why we are on lockdown.”

Was Healer Strom truly so blasé about _bubonic plague?_

“We will start in Chinatown, so that we can say that we went, but then we are going to have a picnic by the Golden Gate. I’ll take you to the beach on the way, but it will be too crowded for private conversation. The rockier areas of the coast are – less well frequented.”

‘You were right, Love. We are being taken to the ocean to expedite the drowning process.’  
‘Shut up.’  
Then, to cover his laugh, Gellert added out loud, “Technical honesty. I approve.”

The trip through the No-Maj areas was not kind to Gellert – Albus could tell by the tension in his neck and hands at certain points in Chinatown, and by his slightly stiffer gait.  
At several points on their way towards the coast, he closed his eyes, in the way that he did when he was trying to shake off a vision while avoiding eye contact with Albus.  
“Motion sickness?” Helga asked, sounding concerned.  
“Not usually,” Gellert answered. “Perhaps something I ate this morning.”  
“Hopefully, you will benefit from the salt air.”

Albus was glad when they finally arrived at the coast. Gellert visibly relaxed as he watched the sandpipers chasing – and being chased by – the water. Albus, however, was not satisfied until he heard Gellert laugh – apparently at one of the birds. Albus hated being in company when Gellert had a difficult vision. He tried to remind himself that Gellert had had to suffer them alone for a decade before he had Albus to share them with.

Helga noticed Gellert’s changed demeanor as well, and suggested that they stay on to eat their lunch on the beach before turning to the Golden Gate for their conversation. She found a place as far from other people as she could, and pulled a blanket out of a basket she had brought with her.  
“It is absurd that we cannot use our… specialized skills _anywhere_ outside of… certain set aside areas. What harm could it do to…”  
She gestured to the picnic basket and made a gesture that Albus supposed was meant to signify shrinking it and putting it in her pocket. 

At first, Albus intended not to answer, but it seemed that Helga was waiting for one of them to say – something – and Gellert was currently engrossed in watching the birds and the waves, so he tipped his head, and suggested, “Wouldn’t someone notice if suddenly…?” He made an expanding motion with his hands.  
“Perhaps so,” Helga answered. 

She laid the blanket on the sand and invited them to sit. Albus was happy to see the bread and cheese and apples, but he would have welcomed a butter beer over the Muggle-style beer that she had brought with them. He was beginning to think that butter beer was not available in America at all.

He wondered if the conversation had been a test of some sort, or if she was actually chafing against the Statute of Secrecy. It wasn’t just Rappaport’s Law – her complaint about the picnic basket would have been equally valid in Britain as well – really in any place they had travelled, aside from the Ottoman Empire.  
That said, it was more difficult to enforce elsewhere – MACUSA’s monitoring system was unparalleled, as far as Albus could tell. He could have easily cast something invisible, like a privacy spell, if they had been _anywhere_ other than America. It would have been both legal (as long as no one spotted a wand) and undetectable to cast a privacy spell... Some sort of shield charm, too, would have been welcome in that moment, with the wind sweeping off the ocean and periodically whipping up the sand. He would be glad to retreat to the rocks further up the coast, away from sand and people, so that he could finally learn about this plague.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The next two days were spent discussing all that they had learned and experienced on their excursion with Healer Strom. Albus had been fascinated to learn that this strain of bubonic plague was significantly different from the Black Death – it was a relief, yes, but it was also curious. Helga had revealed that Healers and historians both had long suspected that that earlier plague had been altered by an unstable Wizard in a way that had made it extraordinarily virulent.

Once she had put the idea in his head, Albus had toyed with the thought of repurposing a plague, or creating a new one – could this be the solution to making the Muggles less of a threat? It would certainly make Wizarding rule easier if there were less Muggles to overcome – and the loss of so many people at once would probably destabilize governments everywhere and disrupt the economy, providing an opening for them to seize power. 

But if war were sloppy, a traditional plague would be even more so – even if he managed to alter the disease in such a way that it would not harm Wizards. There were useful, even friendly Muggles, and there were frightened and potentially dangerous Muggles – it wouldn’t make sense to kill them indiscriminately. But if there were a way to alter the virus to recognize the sort of Muggle who was most likely to stand in their way…

“Gellert?”  
“Albus?”  
“What is it about war? You so often come back to it as a solution.”  
Gellert sighed. “Now you are listening?”

“I –“  
Albus had spent the day contemplating killing off 1/3 or more of the worldwide Muggle population. And this time, he could not blame a murderous Wand. He was not in a position to judge.  
“I am prepared to keep an open mind.”

“War is a form of democracy. The side that wins – it is usually the side that has the most people in favour of it, or has the strongest commitment to the relevant ideas.”

“What about invading armies, though?”  
“If they are truly unwelcome, then the people will continue to resist. If they surrender, then it is likely because they are just as happy with the new way of doing things.”

Albus did not agree with this at all – there were so many other factors – technology, luck, leadership… Regardless, Wizards would never have a majority over Muggles. Unless Albus really did engage in indiscriminate mass murder, which he imagined Gellert would not approve of. But it occurred to Albus now that perhaps he had completely misunderstood…

“Gellert, are you meaning to go to war against the Muggles? Or against other Wizards?”  
“War against Muggles? What would be the point in that? Wizards are not united enough for such an undertaking, and the Muggles would be impossible to rule as a conquered people – no, that is not the way. But, Albus – surely – “

Gellert broke off and silently considered Albus.  
“You thought I meant to go to war with the Muggles. Of course – I should have – I was not listening to your arguments properly. And the things I have said about their numbers… No. Before we can reveal ourselves to the Muggles, we need to have secured the confidence of the Wizarding power structures – we need to change Wizarding culture. The majority of Wizards in many countries have been convinced that separation is the only way. Diplomacy will be a necessary first step. And I hope that will be enough, but I have to be willing to face that there will be sufficient resistance at times that war may be necessary.  
"We have to be prepared to do what needs to be done. This is why I’ve been – there are many reasons I am opposed to assassination, but even if I were not, it wouldn’t make enough of a difference for what we are trying to do. And it would turn the existing power structures against us even more than waging war would do.” 

‘You’ve seen what it is like here in San Francisco,’ Gellert added silently. ‘In America, the people are scared, tired, ready for something new. The government is too repressive, their leaders have pushed them too far for too long.’  
“There are some countries where war may be a better option.”

‘Scared, tired and ready for something new…’  
Albus had not devoted enough conscious thought to the readings he had been making in the saloon, but with Gellert’s words, the pieces began falling into place. 

“Yes – of course!”

“You – agree?”  
‘What is it Albus?’  
‘I can't say that I agree with _all_ of that - not yet. There's still more to discuss. But the government - you said that MACUSA is too repressive. And I didn't realize until just now... There’s already a war here. No, not a war exactly, but pockets of small-scale rebellion. For instance – when you were talking to an older Wizard in the saloon, from the East Coast, you were saying to him that we had been surprised and impressed by how little violence there was in America, and he flashed through some memories of him and another boy – his brother - moving stones, and of watching from behind a tree as his brother was beaten and taken by Aurors after moving one of these stones.  
‘It seemed odd to me at the time – why beat someone no older than Aberforth for moving a stone in the woods? But if the monitors are essentially ward stones, of a sort… then if they were moved, it would make the map inaccurate – make it harder to find new Magic users as well as violators of the law. They must be triangulating from these stones – I can see how traditional wards could be altered for that purpose. And if that’s so, and the boys were moving the stones on purpose… then there’s been a rebellion here all along, but perhaps without any organization.’

Gellert advanced on Albus, looking predatory.  
‘You are so fucking hot.’  
He pushed Albus against the wall and kissed him roughly, pulling back only long enough to convey, ‘And brilliant, gods,’ before claiming Albus’ mouth again. 

Gellert pressed his thigh against Albus’ hardening cock, and Albus forgot all about any questions he had been entertaining before. He lifted up a leg to wrap around Gellert, but Gellert pushed it back down. He unfastened Albus’ trousers, and lowered them just enough to free his cock. Then he dropped to his knees.

Albus used the last of his lucidity to cast a spell on Gellert’s hair, pulling it up and back, so that he could see his face. He gasped at the sight of his cock disappearing into Gellert’s mouth.  
“Pleeeease –“ he whined, throwing his head back, every muscle tensing. 

Gellert removed his mouth.  
“Tell me you’re mine.”  
Albus opened his eyes and looked back down at Gellert, meeting his eyes, his captivating eyes, full of curiosity and passion.  
“Gods! You must know... I’m yours, Gellert, entirely and always.”  
Gellert groaned and licked Albus frantically, all over, before taking Albus into his mouth once more. 

It was true. Albus, who had intended never to belong to anyone but himself, was Gellert’s completely, and had been for more than a year - from the moment he had made his confession: ‘I can deny you nothing.’  
That thought, as much as Gellert’s extraordinary mouth, pushed Albus over the edge. 

Albus groaned. His legs released all tension to the point of making it difficult to stand, and as Gellert removed his mouth and looked up at Albus, Albus began to slide down the wall.  
“It’s ok,” Gellert said in a gentle voice, “let me –“ 

Gellert levitated Albus over to the bed and lay down beside him, then vanished their clothes. Albus rolled over, pressing up against Gellert and laying a hand on Gellert’s cock.  
“Oh no you don’t,” Gellert said, taking Albus’ hand and moving it to his chest. “You are tired.”  
“But you haven’t – “

Gellert laughed softly.  
“I most certainly did – you were too distracted to notice. ”  
"But -" Albus yawned. "But, you're not -"  
"I cleaned myself off, Liebling. And you too. I'm not a barbarian."  
Albus smiled sleepily.  
“ _Not_ a barbarian,” Albus repeated, kissing Gellert’s bare shoulder without raising his head. “Later, then. Later... I want...“

Albus was too tired to say what he wanted. It would take too much effort to make any more words. The last thing he noticed was the sheet drawing up over them both. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

The leaves were beautiful in Colorado this time of year. It was their second time passing through, but the leaves were even more stunning now than they had been the week prior.  
Once again, they were met by an Auror, asking for their permits. This one could not have been as old as Sirius - perhaps 21? He smiled shyly at them. 

“Chicago – I haven’t been there yet. I’ve heard it’s busy. I’m from Texas, myself.”  
He handed each of them their papers and added, “You just made it. The portkey for Chicago leaves in 15 minutes.”  
“That’s a shame,” Gellert said. “I was hoping to enjoy the mountains for a little longer. It’s beautiful here.” 

Even though he was speaking about the mountains, Gellert’s eyes hadn’t left the Auror’s face. What was Gellert hoping to get out of him, Albus wondered. It was too obvious that the poor man was already under Gellert’s spell.

“Beautiful… I - maybe. But there’s nothing here. Just some apartments for the Aurors, and a canteen, and an open office that doubles as a meeting hall. It’s pretty boring.”  
“Surely not – that’s all? But where do your families live? How do you get food? What do you do for - entertainment?”  
“Food is portkeyed in every other day, there’s chess and books and recreational duelling for entertainment, and as for families… MACUSA doesn’t want a settlement here. They only send single folks.”  
“Ah, single. I see,” Gellert replied, nodding.  
The young Auror blushed and glanced at Albus uncertainly. Albus hoped he wasn't looking to him for rescue. It was difficult to stop Gellert once he got started. And impossible to do with any subtlety.

“I don't suppose you keep any spare apartments for overnight guests?" Gellert continued. "The sunrise setting the leaves ablaze… it must be extraordinary.”  
“Overnight guests?” the Auror squeaked, biting his lip and turning to look at Albus' shoes. He gathered himself enough to reply, “It isn’t permitted for anyone other than Aurors on business to stay on overnight. I’m afraid that you won’t be able to see the sunrise, but… I suppose there’s no harm if –"  
He looked up and met Albus' eyes. "It shouldn’t be hard to arrange an evening portkey for you. For the two of you, I mean." 

The Auror cleared his throat and returned his attention to Gellert.  
"You could see the sunset, anyway. If that interests you.”  
“Oh, yes, I’m _very_ interested.”

Gellert was laying it on too thick for Albus’ comfort. It had been a while since he had been with Gellert when he was flirting with someone else. It had not gotten any easier.

The Auror was clearly affected. He was rendered speechless, his eyes wide and almost frightened looking.  
“Perhaps you could show us to the canteen? I am feeling… hungry. Or do you need to stay at your post? I wouldn’t want to _distract_ you –“

“No! I mean, ah, no. I don’t need to stay, I… There’s not another portkey due in for a half hour, and anyway, we have eyes on the arrival point. I, umm – there’s no reason for – I don’t have to wait here.”  
“Lovely!” Gellert exclaimed. “Thank you, Auror –“  
“Oh! Yes, my name. Joe. Carson. Auror Carson.”  
“Lead the way, Auror Carson.”

Finally, Gellert met Albus’ eyes. Albus was seething.  
‘What was that about, you tremendous arse?!’  
‘What? I was wanting to learn more about this outpost, and now Auror Carson wants nothing more than to show me.’  
‘That’s not all he wants to show you. You don’t even understand why I might be angry at you, do you?’ 

Flirting came so naturally to Gellert that he often had no idea he was doing it. And when he _was_ aware of what he was doing, he seemed not to consider that it might hurt Albus to see how easily, how recklessly Gellert fanned the flames of other people’s desire for him.  
Gellert looked down for a moment, then met Albus' eyes again. ‘You can tell me how angry I make you later. Right now, I need you to help me with reconnaissance.’

Gellert trotted up ahead.  
Albus sighed when he heard Gellert ask, “So, Auror Carson – Joe – tell me: how many Aurors do you share your post with?”  
Incorrigible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The San Francisco Plague of 1900 was a real historical event. It was the biggest plague outbreak in US history, with 119 confirmed dead over 1900-1904. There was a second flareup in California in 1908, leaving more than 70 dead. As a result of a complicated tangle of factors, most of which led back to anti-Chinese racism, there were likely more deaths that went unreported in the first outbreak.  
> The plague in California was a footnote-sized outbreak in the context of the Third Plague Pandemic, which is considered to have started in the 1850s, but did not truly ramp up into a complete disaster until the 1890s. While the disease spread globally, the worst hit areas were in Asia – especially India, which lost more than 12 million people in this pandemic, including 1.3 million people in 1907 alone. (In case you wanted an example of what I meant by ‘complete disaster.’) So, you can see that the lived reality of many people with the bubonic plague during this era belies Healer Strom’s statement that this was a different, significantly less virulent strain. I claim literary license / handwaving in this instance.
> 
> I did not know about this plague when I first started writing this fic. Often, I encounter these things at the same time as Gellert and Albus. That is, this is not a COVID inspired chapter – I wrote about plague not because of current events, but because I found this historical event happening at the very time our boys were in San Francisco, and then I just ran with how MACUSA would respond to a Muggle epidemic.
> 
> While this is not a chapter about COVID (after all, this story takes place in a different time, in a different place, with a different disease… lots of differences, even before getting to the ‘and wizards!’ element), this is nonetheless an opportune time to say:  
> I love you all. Stay safe as best you can.


	43. Chicago

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to hit the 'subscribe' button, if you don't want to miss an update!
> 
> <><><><><>
> 
> I am… disappointed, let’s say… in JKR’s slap-dash approach to American history and geography when writing the history of MACUSA. There are too many annoyances for me to list. One of the many bothering me tonight is that she has MACUSA moving to ‘Washington, D.C.’ in 1775. The land was not even set aside for that city until 1790. The boundaries set out encompassed a largely swampy area, but also the town of Georgetown, MD, and the city of Alexandria, VA. Anyway, the point is – there was no Washington, D.C. in 1775, and that is not difficult information to find.  
> (Why yes, I am an American - how could you tell? LOL)  
> So – no. No to that, and to ‘increasing urbanization’ in the Appalachian mountains before 1770 ( _or arguably ever_ ). No to so many things. Instead, I have written yet another support document for this fic: _The History of Wizarding Folk in the area later known as the United States, insofar as it is relevant to the Wizarding Revolution_. It’s a work in progress, and it is quite complicated already. So, as it comes up, if you are wondering why this or that thing is happening, ask – I’ll probably have a reason, and I’m happy to share it.

Chapter 40  
September 1900, continued

Albus sat down heavily on the sofa and removed his shoes, half-heartedly throwing one at Gellert. Gellert, uncharacteristically, allowed it to hit his leg without complaint.

“I can’t believe you. You let me think that you were flirting with him, when the whole time you were pushing him on me!”  
“You know you freeze up when you know that someone is attracted to you,” Gellert said with a wink.

There were too many things to say to that. He could say that this did not justify frightening that poor Wizard. He could say that now he was wondering what it was, exactly, that people were responding to when Gellert was flirting with him – did he get what he wanted because they were attracted to him? Or because they were flustered? Or because they were intimidated? Albus hadn’t much liked it (to be fair, he hadn’t liked it at all) when he thought that Gellert was making people fall in love with him everywhere they went – or at least taking advantage of their infatuation – but it occurred to him now that the idea of Gellert flirting in order to make people uncomfortable seemed even worse.

Albus could say that every time he saw Gellert flirt with someone else, it made him doubt that Gellert flirting _with him_ was meaningful in any way. When Albus flirted with Gellert, it meant something. When Gellert flirted with him… perhaps it was just reflexive. His unconscious (semi-conscious?) way of getting what he wanted. Gellert had made him suffer through that doubt when it was utterly unnecessary – when Auror Carson might have told Albus anything if he showed the merest shred of polite regard. Flirting _in front of Albus_ when it was unnecessary only demonstrated how little Gellert cared for his feelings in this matter.

Or Albus could say that he did not, in fact, ‘freeze up’ when he knew someone was attracted to him. For instance, he had gone to visit Lady Cavallo even after Gellert’s revelation about her attraction to him, and he had been writing to her since leaving Turin. After all, she was practically the linchpin of Europe, to hear Gellert tell it, and it would be a waste not to leverage her partiality. And there was Phineas, of course. He felt that he had handled Phineas well.

“There is a difference between not knowing that someone is attracted to me and being unable to behave around them when I know that they are.”  
“I don’t know,” Gellert said with a teasing tone. “That day at Auntie Bathilda’s…”

Albus shouted. Gellert’s trunk popped open and all of his clothes went flying out, tossed haphazardly around the room. Albus’ eyes grew wide. How had that happened? It felt satisfying, though. If there was one thing Gellert cared about…  
“What in the name of all the gods was that about?” Gellert asked in consternation, after removing a pair of trousers that was draped over his head and covering his face.

Albus looked at Gellert, who seemed truly mystified as to why Albus was upset. Albus closed his eyes and shook his head. He summoned his shoes, put them back on his feet, and stood up.  
“I, at least, understand that the way I treat you is different from the way I treat anyone else. It isn’t just that I _feel_ differently about you, Gellert. The way I treat you _means something_. As for you… well, I can think of _one_ thing you treat with respect, anyway.”

Albus picked up a waistcoat from where it had landed beside him on the sofa and shoved it into Gellert’s chest as he passed. Then he walked out the door, down the stairs, and onto the street. It felt – wrong. He was never the one to leave. His first thought was to walk right back into the hotel, but he felt foolish about it. Besides, it was possible that Gellert was onto something with his habit of walking away. Maybe Albus just needed to be apart from him for a little while, to think things through.

Gellert had been delighted with all of the information they had gathered at the Colorado outpost. Disaffection among the ranks of young Aurors was high. It would not be difficult to turn enough of them to shut down one or more transfer points – and perhaps even put them under Gellert and Albus’ control. If they could secure _all three_ of the Western transfer points, then only they would have the ability to move fighters. And with the long-distance apparition capability that the Elder Wand gave them, only they would be able to coordinate the fighting. 

Albus had no argument with any of that. But the audacity of Gellert to tell him afterwards that they were ‘a good team,’ when in fact he had kept Albus completely in the dark as to his information gathering strategy… it was offensive. And he accused Albus of keeping secrets. At least he had never used Gellert as an unwitting tool in one of his plans.

Albus smiled for a moment. He couldn’t deny that it _had_ been clever. Auror Carson had been embarrassed by Gellert’s attention, when really he had only wanted to impress Albus. And so, when Gellert wandered off to get coffee and to charm another Auror, and then another, Carson had told Albus… everything. Confided in him about being forcibly adopted, about wondering where his birthparents were and when he had been taken, what memories he had lost. He told Albus about the long hours and the lack of appreciation and the bad food and the loneliness – he had talked _at length_ about the loneliness. 

But that wasn’t all. Without even seeming to realize he was doing it, Carson told Albus about the outpost: their one defence was their remote location, their portkeys were made onsite and there were only two people who knew how to make them, there was a second arrival point for Aurors only, the post was staffed almost entirely by new recruits. 

And then Albus had looked in his eyes and seen Carson’s attraction practically spilling out of him – every thought and action filtered through his desire to be seen by Albus. He saw how worried he was that Albus would think that he was interested in Gellert, given Gellert’s outrageous behaviour. ‘I wasn’t even encouraging him,’ Carson was thinking, dismayed. Albus quickly withdrew and put together all of the little signs, signs he was only able to pick up on in hindsight… and he knew. Knew that Gellert had seen it, had known. Knew that Gellert had manipulated Carson – and Albus, too.

It had been a tremendously clever plan. A plan that Gellert had clearly devised moments after they had arrived, with his genius for reading strangers and his extraordinary quick-wittedness. Albus admired both of these traits of Gellert’s, and so he could appreciate the plan from this small distance. But it was nonetheless a plan that would have worked just as well if Gellert had not chosen to take advantage of Albus’ chief blind spot – if instead he had taken one of his _several_ opportunities to alert Albus, starting with that first legilimency conversation after Gellert had engineered a longer stay at the outpost for them.  
That he thought that Albus _could not perform his role_ if he knew what his role was? That was profoundly insulting. That Gellert had latched onto the one occasion in Albus’ entire life when he had frozen, curled in on himself like a hedgehog – that Gellert had formed an opinion on that basis…

Now Albus was back to being angry.

This wasn’t working. How did Gellert know when it was time to turn around and go back?  
Perhaps asking that question indicated that he should turn back now. Talking with Gellert was probably better than not talking with him. Right now, he didn’t feel like forgiving Gellert at all, and he wasn’t going to get any closer without an explanation and an apology. Anyway, he wasn’t feeling much like drinking, and he doubted that he’d find anything else to do at this time of night. 

He was just about to turn back towards the hotel when he heard the roar of a small crowd. There was something more to do than drinking in Chicago, after all. He turned down the alley from which the sound had come. He took a right into another alley that stretched longer than an alley should do, before it opened up into a large well-lit open area, filled with Witches and Wizards. What was it they were crowded around? Albus couldn’t see. 

“What’s happening?” he asked the Witch he was standing beside.  
“Oh! What a lovely accent you have!” She looked embarrassed as soon as she had said it. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you hear that a lot.”  
Albus smiled. “Not usually, but I haven’t been in America for very long.”  
“So, you really meant ‘what are you looking at?’ and not ‘who’s winning?’”  
Albus took a peek – she had actually thought he had meant, ‘I would like to get to know you better – are you attracted to me too?’ Oh dear. 

“Yes, well, what I _really_ meant was, ‘I can’t see what is happening, and I am wondering what would draw such a crowd.’”  
“Yes, I see.”  
To her credit, she seemed to handle her disappointment well. Or perhaps she still thought they were playing a game.

“It’s boxing –“  
She said something more, but her voice was drowned out by the crowd.  
“I’m sorry?” Albus asked, gesturing to his ear.  
“House elf boxing!” she shouted.

House elf _boxing_? Albus was appalled. He had expected barbarity from the Americans, given all that adhering to their extreme form of separation from the Muggles required, but this was cruel beyond anything he could have anticipated.  
He made no effort to disguise his distaste.

“Oh!” the young woman said apologetically. “No, I – you probably misunderstand. These are _free_ elves – no one is forcing them. We have – there are free elves in America. They can choose to work for hire instead of binding themselves. They aren’t under orders. Only free elves may fight. There are always observers from the Auror’s office, to make sure no bound elves are involved.”

Albus still wasn’t sure he liked it. He certainly wouldn’t be reconciled to it until he knew the parameters of the fighting – were there limits on how much injury they could do to one another? What provisions were made for the health and safety of the elves? Were the fight promoters also elves? Or were Wizards the ones who made the most money off of this entertainment? What were the elves’ contracts like? What exactly constituted ‘free’ in this situation? These seemed to be questions he could ask Arthur when they saw him, if it was true that Aurors monitored the fights.

And there was also the question of whether anyone considered this a proper occupation for a Wizard, or if it was considered beneath anyone but elves. Was this truly like boxing? Or was it more like a cockfight, in the eyes of the observers? Were they treating powerfully magical sentient creatures the same way that a Muggle would treat a dog? (Not that dogs ought to be forced to fight either, but… not the point.)  
He would not look to an Auror for the answer to this question. Public opinion was better picked up in a bar. Not tonight – he was too exhausted tonight – but soon. Ordinarily, he would have preferred to send Gellert out to find that answer, but since it involved house elves… there was a limit to how drunk he wanted Gellert to be when he returned to him. Albus would have to do it himself, this time.

And finally, did house elves like this work? Or did they find it demeaning? Dangerous? What other options did they have for employment, if they wished to remain free? Those were questions for the elves themselves. Albus wondered whether it was acceptable to be seen talking with the elves after a fight, and if not, how best to locate these particular elves, these boxers. 

A plan was beginning to form in Albus’ mind. He had been looking for an elf. A free elf. A clever elf. An adventurous elf. He hadn’t found a match in the New York hiring agency he had gone to, nor in the one agency in St. Louis, and there had been no agency at all in San Francisco. But perhaps he ought not to be looking in the agencies. Or perhaps he had been asking the wrong questions… Were house elves with certain personalities or skill sets drawn more to one city than to another?  
Was Albus going to find a house elf in Chicago that would be willing to join in a contract with him?

 _This_ was the sign that it was time to go back to the room. If there was one thing that was sure to annoy Gellert, it was Albus acting on some plan that he had not yet shared with him. And while the irony was not lost on him that he himself was angry at Gellert for not including him in a plan (or really worse than that, including him without informing him), two wrongs did not make a right.  
Besides, he needed more information before he could take action.

“Thank you,” Albus said to the Witch, with a nod of his head.  
“You’re not staying?” she asked, the disappointment clear on her face.  
So, she had been hoping that the conversation was a prelude to something more. Well. At least _he_ had done nothing to encourage that notion.

“No,” Albus answered. “I was just passing by – I heard the noise of the crowd and was curious, but I have somewhere else I need to be.”  
He turned from her and walked back down the alley and towards the hotel.

When Albus entered the room, Gellert was kneeling in front of his trunk, repacking his clothes by hand. It was an unnecessarily slow way to go about things – Albus had never seen him do it without magic. By the looks of it, he was less than halfway done. Gellert looked up and half-smiled without speaking. 

“Hi.”  
“Hi,” Gellert answered.  
“So – do you want to, umm, leave that and come to bed? It’s late.”  
Gellert got up.  
“I have a lot of work to do here, so –“  
Albus watched as Gellert walked a little distance, collected as much clothing as he could comfortably carry, returned to his trunk, and knelt back down to carefully fold each item and put it away. Albus noticed a shirt laying near his feet. He picked it up and carried it to Gellert, kneeling beside him.

“Hey. I’m sorry.”  
Gellert took the shirt from Albus, somehow managing not to touch him at all in the process.  
“It was an accident – you know that, right?”  
“An accident.”  
“I didn’t – I wasn’t trying to toss your clothes – I was just so angry…”

Only now did it occur to Albus to be frightened. That had been a powerful outburst. A powerful and meaningful outburst, driven by pure emotion, without thought or intention. He had had no control over it whatsoever.  
He began hyperventilating. 

His vision became blurry. He was vaguely aware of moving through the air and onto the bed, and then Gellert’s arms were around him. He was – he was –  
“Shhh – you’re ok, Love. Slow down. That’s right.”  
Albus’ breathing was still ragged, but not so fast.  
“Gellert - ?”  
“Shhh – not yet. Not yet, Liebling. Just breathe. Let me hold you while you breathe.”  
They sat there quietly, Albus’ back against Gellert’s chest, Gellert’s warmth seeping into Albus, his magic soothing him. Home. This was what home felt like. 

Home. Magic. Accidents.  
Albus began to panic again.

“Ok. Maybe not _just_ breathing,” Gellert said. “Such a busy mind you have. Talk to me.”  
“I could have – I could have – it was an accident – and – “  
“And nothing was damaged. It was a bit funny, actually, until you left.”  
“But you could have been –“

“Hurt? No. You would never hurt me, Albus.”  
“Not on purpose, but – not your clothes, either, but I did! I did. And I didn’t even mean to, and they were everywhere. And next time –“

“Not a single thing was damaged, Albus. Not even soiled, even though there are open bottles of ink here, and a coal scuttle, and two cups of tea… There was a fire in the fireplace and several lamps lit, and yet nothing was burned. Really, it was quite remarkable. Your magic wouldn’t even let you damage _my clothes_ accidentally.”

“You’re - not scared of me?”  
“No,” said Gellert. “No, never.”  
Gellert kissed Albus’ neck, and then said, “No, I am the one lucky Wizard on this planet who gets not to be scared of you.”  
Albus pulled away from Gellert and turned around to face him. 

“Because of the pact.”  
“No, because you love me.”

It was true. Albus did love Gellert, desperately. And the way that Gellert had dropped everything, even in the middle of a still smouldering argument, to tend to Albus when he panicked… it was not surprising behaviour at all. It was exactly what Gellert could be counted on to do, every time, no matter what. If Albus truly needed him, he would be there.

“I’m still angry with you.”  
“I expected that you were. Should I – transfigure myself a bed or something?”  
Albus sighed. “No, Angel. I’m going to forgive you, inevitably, so there’s no sense in dragging things out in that way. But I need to – “ Albus summoned a nightshirt, and got out of bed to put it on. “We don’t need to talk all night, but there is one thing – I’m not going to be able to sleep until we talk about you not confiding in me, just manipulating me for your plan.”

Gellert moved to sit on the edge of the bed, holding a pillow against him.  
“Albus, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have –“  
“No, you shouldn’t have. It was cruel to me and to Auror Carson both. Needlessly so. He would have told me everything even without your flirting, and I would have done just as well or better if you had told me he was attracted to me.”

“I know.”  
“You _know?!_ ”  
“I shouldn’t have, I know, but I couldn’t help myself. It is funny to me – people are always showing interest in you, and you are _so slow_ to notice. It is – I have started keeping track of how long it takes you. Usually you do not notice at all – it is adorable –“  
“Adorable?! Gellert –“

“You have no idea how attractive you are,” he interrupted, gesturing at Albus with the pillow. “People are falling for you all the time –“  
“This is the sort of information that would be useful to have, Gellert. You would do better to tell me how to recognize all of the little non-obvious signs –“  
“Non-obvious?” Gellert asked incredulously. “Albus, you miss even the most blatant – “

“I believe that if you were to look me in the eyes and read exactly what I was subjected to, both at the Wurdiztals’ ball and at the Potters’, you would see how quickly I can recognize a woman’s hand snaking around the back of my neck.”

“Ok, I will concede that even you can tell when a woman is outright touching you inappropriately. But under ordinary circumstances…”  
_‘Even you?!’_ Gellert had exchanged one sort of insult for another!  
“It is different when the other person does not have that kind of - opportunity. So, fine, yes, _excluding dancing_ , this was a new record: just under an hour! Remarkable for you, really.”

Gellert had not told him because he wanted to see _how long it took_ for Albus to notice Auror Carson’s interest? They were on some kind of mission, and he was _playing a game?_  
It couldn’t be true. Albus looked at Gellert’s hand. It was. It was absolutely true. If it weren’t for the pact, Albus would have found it impossible to believe.  
Well. If it was a game, then Gellert was _not_ going to have the pleasure of winning.

Albus sniffed haughtily.  
“Actually, you missed it. I noticed a Witch being attracted to me in under five minutes. When I was out just now.”  
Gellert gripped the pillow more tightly.  
“You cannot be serious. That’s – really?”  
“Really. She was tremendously disappointed when I left.”

Gellert looked at the fireplace, worrying his lip. Then he turned his attention back to Albus, narrowing his eyes.  
“You knew she was interested – how?”  
“Well – fine, it was sort of an accident. I was using Legilimency on her for a completely different reason, and –“  
Gellert threw the pillow at Albus.  
“That doesn’t count at all, then.”

Albus caught the pillow and tossed it onto the ground.  
“Well, at least I didn’t _freeze_.”  
“No, I imagine - ”  
But Albus continued without acknowledging Gellert’s interruption.  
“I do not just ‘freeze up’ when someone is interested in me! Just because I didn’t know how to react that _one time_ with you… It’s only you! It has only ever been you! Don’t you understand that, you fucking idiot?!”

Quiet settled over the room, made uneasy by contrast with the shouting that had preceded it. 

“Yes,” Gellert admitted. “I am entirely an idiot.”  
“Yes, you are,” Albus muttered, kicking the pillow.

“Albus, Love, I was just – I was teasing you. I didn’t think you would think I was serious. That is, I thought you would be a bit indignant, and then you would realize I was teasing, and you would pretend to be angry, and then we would… “  
Gellert had not meant it? He had thought that Albus would immediately recognize that he was teasing? And that it would all somehow lead to _sex_? Idiot was right. He was married to an idiot.

“You never let yourself be distracted from your purpose, Albus. You are always in control. It never occurred to me that you might think – Albus. I know you. _I know you._ ”  
“It wasn’t funny, Gellert.”  
“I do see that now.”

“You made me think that you didn’t trust me! It felt as if you didn’t know me at all. It made me feel – it would not have been the first time that you had been expecting the whole time for me to put my foot in it! It is not as if you have never been patronizing!”  
Gellert sighed.  
“Gregorovitch. Albus, I was wrong. You – I would be dead without you. I never forget it. You aren’t – I’m not – all I was doing – “

Gellert took a deep breath and started again.  
“I can’t undo it, Albus. But I would if I could. It was foolish and thoughtless for me to entertain myself in this way. It didn’t – I wasn’t thinking that it would hurt you, but it is obvious now why it did. I apologize.”

Albus closed his eyes and nodded. He looked back at Gellert.  
“Ok.”  
“Ok?”

He went to the bed and sat down next to Gellert.  
“Yes, ok, I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. I was angry at you for thinking something that you were not thinking at all – so, I don’t need to be angry about that anymore. I’m annoyed, but not angry.”  
The twinge in Albus’ hand reminded him that that was only _almost_ true.  
“That is, I’m not angry _about that_. Anymore.”

“So – you are still angry about something?”  
“Yes, but – it is not important for tonight. This was enough. We’re both tired now. I’d rather save it for after breakfast.”  
Gellert looked as if he were considering whether he was willing to wait.

“Bed, then?”  
“Bed,” Albus agreed, grateful that Gellert had decided not to press him.

Gellert removed his clothing and joined Albus in bed, and they lay on their sides looking at one another. Albus took in Gellert’s uncertainty, his concern, his – arousal. He turned his attention to his hand, pressed up against Gellert’s chest.  
“Tell me you love me?”  
Gellert ran his fingers through Albus’ hair.  
“Look at me.”

“I _am_ looking at you, just not –“  
“Albus.”  
Albus raised his eyes to Gellert’s face.  
“I love you, Albus Dumbledore. Always. I love you always.”

Albus pushed Gellert onto his back and lay on top of him.  
“I know – I know I shouldn’t have to ask, but –“  
Gellert closed the short distance between their lips.  
“I like it when you ask,” he murmured, kissing Albus again.  
“I don’t like that I made you doubt it, but I like that you know I will always say yes. I love you.”

Albus nibbled on Gellert’s shoulder and his neck, then whispered in his ear, “Turn over.”  
Albus ran his eyes over Gellert’s back. He imagined filling the valley of Gellert’s spine with his come. Not tonight, though. He nipped Gellert’s neck where it joined his shoulder.  
“Harder,” Gellert commanded.

“No,” Albus answered, pinning Gellert to the bed. “No. You were in control this afternoon – it’s my turn. I am going to take my time with you, Mr. Grindelwald. I am going to make you wait. You are going to be at my mercy for as long as I say.”

The following morning, Albus woke before Gellert and left to buy fruit and bread at the market. He talked with the grocer, asking him if he had been at the fight the night before, asking if he was from Chicago, sharing that he was ‘on vacation’ from Britain.  
Walking back to the hotel, he thought about what Gellert had said the night before, about Albus not noticing when people were attracted to him. He had said that he liked it, that he found it adorable. It occurred to Albus now that Gellert had appeared distressed when Albus told him about the Witch at the boxing match.

Gellert liked it when people wanted a certain kind of attention from Albus, and Albus didn’t notice. He liked Albus not seeing anyone’s desire for him – anyone but – Gellert's! Oh! This was about Gellert wanting to be different from everyone else – needing for Albus to see only his attention and no one else’s.  
They were not so different, Albus and Gellert.  
Gellert wanted Albus to see only Gellert’s desire for him, and Albus wanted Gellert to respond to only Albus’ desire.

Except that Gellert also seemed to enjoy that he had someone that other people wanted and could not have, and Albus would have been happier if he were the only one who wanted Gellert. Not that that was feasible, given how attractive he was. And funny. And attentive. 

Albus returned to the room, thinking that this insight would make all the difference in the coming conversation, but it didn’t. Gellert did not agree that this was what made Albus’ obliviousness charming, nor did he agree that he needed to apologize for flirting with other people – even in front of Albus.

“You are a good listener, Love. You listen to people, and then you very quickly, without even thinking about it, figure out what they _want_ to hear, what they _need_ to hear, and what _you_ most want them to hear. Then you construct an answer that manages to say all three things at once. You do this to me, and to everyone else. It is the same with me, only that -”

“No, Gellert,” Albus interrupted, “it is not the same at all, because what I want any other person to hear is always different, but when I speak to you, what I want you to hear is – it is always, ‘I love you.’”  
“No, sometimes you want me to hear that you think I am wrong, or that it is time for us to go out to lunch, or – it is not always – you may always be _thinking_ , ‘I love you,’ but sometimes you want me to hear what _you_ are needing, because you know that I love you and want to know what you are thinking, how you are feeling, what you need.”  
“Ok –“

“Ok. So, it is the same. I communicate in one way with everybody, but because how we feel about one another is different, I can say the same thing to you that I would say to someone else, and still be meaning something different. I am never meaning, ‘I love you’ or ‘I know you love me’ when I am flirting with someone else.”

Albus did not think that what Gellert was doing was, in fact, the same as what Albus did – not least because it was all too easy for the people Gellert flirted with to actually think that he _really was_ meaning ‘I love you’ or ‘I know you love me’ when he did it – or perhaps, ‘wouldn’t you like to have sex with me?’ Wasn’t that what flirting was for? At the very least, it was a game of ‘isn’t it entertaining to pretend that we are attracted to one another?’ and that could easily turn into a game where one player stopped pretending. 

Albus thought that, instead, Gellert found flirting to be fun, and this was why he would not promise to stop doing it. He simply _didn’t want to_. This was evident in his promise that he didn’t usually flirt with people who were not interested in playing along – that he had only been playing a part in Colorado for the purpose of making Auror Carson want to confide in Albus even more than he would have done.  
‘It doesn’t feel right to keep going if the person isn’t enjoying it,’ Gellert had contended. ‘And anyway, such a thing is counterproductive in the long run.’ 

It was clear that this conversation was not going to lead to a resolution that morning, so Albus decided that he didn’t need to agree with Gellert– it was enough that Gellert believed it. Or perhaps, it was enough only because Gellert _had_ apologized for all of the rest – and had reiterated that he did not actually think that Albus would have clumsily spoiled Gellert’s plan if he had known about it. 

Still, Albus had dodged Gellert’s embrace, with the excuse of it being lunchtime. It was hard to feel like making love so soon after receiving confirmation of his suspicion that Gellert simply liked being an object of desire to so many people.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“I hope that Percival is feeling better,” Gellert said as they sat down in Arthur’s office.

Gellert had raised the subject first, in order to keep Arthur’s eyes on him. He and Albus had disagreed about whether or not to take a straightforward approach with the Sasquatch Fever question. Albus didn’t trust Arthur to answer them honestly, but Gellert had replied that he had done very well for almost his entire life without Legilimency, and could easily spot and work with _dishonest_ answers.  
Albus had to admit that Gellert had a point. Arthur’s Occlusion skills were bound to be excellent. It was possible that Albus might even be diverted by false evidence. Still, it would have been tempting to try if he had had the opportunity to brush up against Arthur’s mind when he was a bit off guard, just as the conversation was starting.

“Feeling better? Oh – yes, that’s right. You were there when I told Penelope that he was unwell.”  
‘Oh yes, that’s right…’ It seemed highly unlikely to Albus that Arthur had forgotten.  
“Sasquatch Fever? You said?” Gellert asked. “You had something about him being too ill for school, and being unfamiliar –“  
“You see, we don’t have Sasquatch Fever in Europe,” Albus interrupted.  
“… and so our imaginations were left to run wild about how ill exactly your nephew might be.”

Arthur smiled at them in an absent way. Yes, Occluding. Albus had been right that there was something of importance here. Was he sorry that they knew? Or had he meant for them to know? It had not occurred to Albus before now that Arthur might have said the words ‘Sasquatch Fever’ in front of them on purpose, hoping that they would look into it. Of course, it was still more likely that he had spoken with no regard for them. Certainly, he had seemed genuinely concerned, and perhaps the only way to get his sister’s attention was to say the words.

Albus had gone to the library in St. Louis in order to research Sasquatch Fever. He had been looking for the purpose of reassuring himself that he would not be bringing a new illness home to Britain, but when he found nothing, he began to grow suspicious. He broadened his search to ‘Sasquatch,’ and found only a few newspaper articles about ‘The Sasquatch Rebellion.’ The articles did not make very much sense. The reasons why the Sasquatch might rebel were unclear, and the only outcome mentioned was that the capital of MACUSA had been moved, in spite of the assertion that the Sasquatch were the ones that had lost the – what was it? A war? The word ‘rebellion’ seemed to imply something more than a single attack on a single building.

What was most suspicious to Albus, however, was that there were so few details about who these Sasquatch were or where they were from. Such a description would arguably be unnecessary if the existence of Sasquatch was common knowledge – but Albus found absolutely nothing about them in any publication prior to the ‘rebellion,’ which had taken place just eight years before. He was beginning to believe that there was no such thing as Sasquatch or Sasquatch Fever, and that the newspapers had misreported the supposed Sasquatch Rebellion.

“Percival is fine now, thank you for asking. He is back at school. He was never in any danger, simply – uncomfortable.”  
Uncomfortable enough to be unable to make it to school for the start of term.  
“So it – forgive me, Albus was afraid that we might bring something home with us unwittingly, and we were contemplating if quarantining ourselves might be necessary – it is not contagious?”  
“Oh, no. No.” Arthur laughed. “You have nothing to fear. Percival was just – unlucky, I’m afraid. New York has many visitors from around the world, and none of them have taken home Sasquatch Fever.”  
‘Because there is no Sasquatch Fever,’ Albus thought.  
It had been a code. What had it been code for? And was the nephew even involved? It didn’t matter. They would get no further today. Best to change the subject before they looked too interested. 

“I’m glad that Percival is well,” Albus concluded, “And that this does not represent another epidemic. In San Francisco, the Muggles are fighting Bubonic Plague.”  
Arthur smirked. “Ah, so you’ve met _McRae_. I’m sure he _loved_ having a pair of young well-dressed foreigners in his backwater.”  
Gellert laughed. “He did not much care for us, no. But perhaps he was under stress. He had the entire city on lockdown –“  
Arthur snorted and muttered, “city…”  
“The hotel was full of Witches and Wizards who were forced to leave their homes and businesses and confine themselves in Snallygaster,” Gellert continued. “It may be that he would have treated us differently if the circumstances had not been so – extraordinary?”  
“Very generous of you,” Arthur answered. 

“Is it true,” Albus asked, “that everyone here knows who I am? McRae said –“  
Arthur sighed. “I’m sure that McRae said a lot of things. Your mother’s death was a small item in the paper, yes. And there has been an editorial or two about what the British people can learn from the Americans, but that has not been explicitly linked to your family, in the way that it has in Britain. Your own name has never been in the paper here – it is not even known here that Ariana Dumbledore has a brother. Most Witches and Wizards in America will have no idea who you are, even after you give your name. There are, however, a few more well-to-do individuals who take _The Daily Prophet_. And –“

Arthur hesitated. Albus did not press him, but simply waited. He was grateful that Gellert did the same.  
Arthur cleared his throat. “When you arrived in New York, the Commissioner sent a memorandum to every District office, explaining who you are and why you are here, and asking us to be of assistance to you, if you asked. I believe that he and your Headmaster are old friends. There are a few individuals who would not take well to such apparent favouritism, and McRae is one.”

“Ah.” Albus looked chagrined, for Arthur’s benefit. This sort of request was, indeed, helpful in most instances, and he was gratified that this had been the result of the Headmaster’s letter. But it was better not to appear as if he felt entitled to this sort of attention.  
Gellert, however, being merely the traveling companion of the privileged individual in question, had a bit more freedom. 

“You, on the other hand,” Gellert said, “provided us with a great deal of assistance in New York, already. I don’t suppose –“  
Arthur laughed. “Ask away.”

“Albus ran into something of interest the night before last, just after we arrived in town. Something of concern? Something of interest. Hard to say. House elf boxing?”

Arthur grinned. “The two of you ask the most interesting questions. How long are you staying?”  
“Through Friday morning,” Gellert answered.  
“Stay through Saturday. I can easily change your portkey so that you can leave Sunday morning early. There’s a big fight on Friday night.”

“Albus?”  
“You’re the one who keeps the schedule, Gellert. You tell me.”  
‘I would rather not see – ‘  
‘You won’t have to. We’ll find a reason for you not to go. Just Arthur and I.’  
‘And if you find an elf before then?’  
‘I’ll still want to go, I think. I have to know, Gellert. I mean, I don’t have to, but –‘

Gellert turned back to Arthur.  
“Thank you for the offer. Fortunately, I had not yet sent the letter to Mr. Phillips, apprising him of our arrival, so it will be easy enough to change our plans.”  
“Excellent. Well, gentlemen, tell me what you want to know.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Hugo had been a free elf for the entire two decades since he had come into his majority. This did not surprise Albus. The elf was opinionated to the point of obstinacy, and was already unsparing in his criticism of Albus and Gellert within minutes of making their acquaintance.  
‘There is no excuse for your total ignorance of No-Maj philosophers, even as young as both of you are!’ he had complained. ‘But,’ he conceded reluctantly, ‘you appear to be educable.’

He gave every impression that he was condescending to be employed by them. He refused to accept any implication as to the inferiority of house elves, contending that he was more than any Wizard’s equal. Hugo seemed surprised that this did not in any way offend Albus. 

Albus appreciated that Hugo was honest, intelligent, and – in spite of his apparent disdain – actually quite excited to meet Wizards who expected more out of him than that he would remember how they took their tea. Albus had long had a high view of house elves, and in this way he was a good match for Hugo – but he had some reservations about whether Hugo would be able to eventually come to relax once he had more evidence of Albus and Gellert’s respect.

This doubt was overcome by Gellert’s immediate connection with the elf. The two began bantering within minutes of meeting – and as they playfully argued, Gellert began gesturing excitedly. His magic was warm and expansive, and there was laughter in his voice… Albus hadn’t seen Gellert behave this way with anyone but Bathilda, Wolf, and Albus himself. It was so endearing that Albus couldn’t imagine contracting anyone else. And it might be good for Gellert to care for – and be cared for by – an elf, after having punished himself over Zinnie for so long.

Hugo had definite ideas about the significance of contracts (about which he had only said, ‘You will read Grotius, then you will understand’), and as a result, it had taken two days to negotiate the terms of his employment. It was worth it, if only because he and Gellert could speak freely with one another for the first time in three months. Of course, Hugo had a great deal more value than simply as a watchdog. But Albus knew that many arguments could have been avoided if he and Gellert could have spoken every fear and doubt out loud. 

The next day, as Albus and Gellert were preparing for the return to New York, Albus told Hugo, “We will need to introduce you to our host, Mr. Phillips. It would be rude to bring an elf into his house without telling him. Though in any case, I imagine his wards will tell him that you are there, which would make not telling him even worse.”  
“Naturally. It is his property, after all.”

“Yes, well. The thing is, Hugo, we are going to need you to – speak like an elf.”  
“I _am_ an elf. Therefore, whenever I speak, I am speaking like an elf.”  
Gellert began laughing. Albus turned on him.  
“You, Raven, are no help at all!”

“He’s too fair to be called Raven. Do you call him that because he likes shiny things? Or because he is mischievous? Are you at all familiar with Indian folklore? Coyote is more well known, I suppose. Or – “ Hugo asked pointedly, “is it because he is _surprisingly_ intelligent - for a human?”

Gellert popped into his animagus form and back again.  
“I suppose that could be useful,” Hugo said disdainfully, but Albus could tell by his suddenly alert posture that he was impressed.  
“Useful only for entertaining house elves,” Gellert replied, smirking.

“Hugo. I can’t blame you for changing the subject. But I need for you to acknowledge that, so long as you are in my employ, you are required to speak in that demeaning ungrammatical dialect that most house elves affect in order to make Wizards wrongly feel superior. That is, I will only need you to pretend to be uncultured in this way when speaking in front of any Witch or Wizard that I have not previously and explicitly designated as elf-friendly. At any other time, you may speak naturally. You understand?”  
“Yes, Master Dumbledore,” Hugo said, in a sing-songy tone.  
“Hugo…” Albus growled.

“Hugo is sorry, Master Dumbledore, but Master is not saying if Master and Master’s friend are ‘elf-friendly.’”  
Albus threw up his hands. “I obviously meant for you to consider Gellert and I to be elf-friendly, Hugo! We know well what you are capable of, and have contracted you on that basis!”  
Gellert shook his head. “You have finally found someone more pedantic than yourself, Love. Well done.”  
Albus and Hugo rolled their eyes in unison.

“Fine,” Hugo said. “I understand the need for this charade. I only hope that you will not require it of me often.”  
Albus sat on the floor, so as to be a bit shorter than Hugo.  
“As seldom as we can get away with, Hugo. We simply don’t know Mr. Phillips well enough yet, and it is important for us to make as many friends as we can.”  
“With that, at least, I can agree. It is always best to kill as few people as possible. You may be able to achieve your aims through diplomacy yet. Though how you could expect to do so without a shred of political philosophy in your heads…”

Gellert laughed.  
“You were right, Liebling. We were suffering for want of an elf. How did we survive before now without Hugo?”  
He quickly sobered. “That is…”

“Ah – Hugo?” Albus tilted his head towards the window.  
“Yes, I see. This is an opportune time for me to do some reconnaissance? To consult with the house elves in the employ of the key Aurors in the District of Chicago and perhaps to obtain some arrest records? While I’m out, I can procure supper and make sure that tomorrow morning’s portkey will be departing on schedule.”  
“Thank you, Hugo. That sounds perfect.”

The elf popped away and Albus stood and took Gellert into his arms.  
“Don’t Albus.” Gellert pushed away from Albus. “I don’t deserve –“  
“It _wasn’t your fault_ , Gellert.”

“Zinnie tried to tell me. She gave me those books, and she warned me about my father, as well as she could while under his roof. How many times did she spare me when I was at home? Father must have had agents poisoning me at Durmstrang, taking advantage of Zinnie’s inability to follow me there. If only they had allowed elves at school! But it doesn’t matter. I should have paid better attention. I should have – “

“Known that your father would administer a potion that you did not know existed, and so could not know how to anticipate or detect?”

Oh. Because of his gift, Gellert did know things before they happened, sometimes. He anticipated things no one else could anticipate. Did he blame himself for not having foreseen his father’s control? For not having known about the Takvaldr? For not having a vision that would have allowed him to prevent Zinnie’s death? That wasn’t fair! He didn’t have control over what he knew and didn’t know.

Gellert turned away. Albus closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Gellert, holding him close.  
“How much longer are you going to punish yourself for this?”  
“For as long as I remember.”

Albus sighed. Things had been going so well, the past few days, that Albus had forgotten how much he was asking of Gellert, bringing an elf into their lives. He dropped his arms and stepped back.  
“Turn around, Love? Please?”

Gellert turned around and closed his eyes before opening them to look at Albus. Gods, so beautiful. Even when he was melancholy, he was beautiful. Albus reached up and touched Gellert’s face. 

“Come to bed, Liebling? Hugo is out running errands, so - ”  
“Albus – “  
Albus interrupted Gellert, laying two fingers on his lips.  
“No. If you are going to tell me how terrible you are, and how wrong I am to love you, then you can tell me in bed, with me holding you. I am not going to stand here like this, with you all fully clothed and miserable.”  
Gellert smiled ruefully. “You want me instead to be naked and miserable?”  
“I will settle for partially naked and miserable.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes, which seemed to Albus to be a good sign.  
“Yes, ok.” 

Gellert took off his shoes and his vest and his trousers, but he left on his shirt and summoned some pants. Albus, for his part, took his time disrobing. He still felt self-conscious, knowing that Gellert was watching him, but he was trying to learn to accept that Gellert liked looking at him, and this seemed, at the moment, a small thing to give him. Sure enough, Gellert inhaled sharply as Albus’ shirt fell to the floor.  
“That’s enough – don’t make me wait any longer for you,” Gellert said, vanishing the rest of Albus’ clothes, and lifting up the blanket so that he could join Gellert beneath it. 

Gellert turned away from Albus as he got into bed, and Albus moulded his body against Gellert’s and held him. He grasped Gellert’s hand and laid his other hand against Gellert’s back.  
“Now,” Albus said. “Tell me.”

When Hugo returned, Albus was sitting up in bed and Gellert was leaning up against him, fast asleep.  
“I will be leaving every time you…” Hugo waved his hand at the bed, suddenly inarticulate.  
“That seems best,” Albus agreed.

Hugo set a folder down on the desk, and a bag of food on the bedside table.  
“He didn’t want an elf.”  
“No. Not before. But now he’s met you.”  
“Now he’s met me, and my presence makes him unhappy.”  
“No, Hugo, he makes himself unhappy. Frequently. Though I don’t think that he can help it. You, on the other hand, make him very happy. I would not have made a contract with you otherwise.”

“Albus. You are not being entirely honest with me.”  
Hugo was right. And he was going to have to be told very soon.  
“He – there was an elf, assigned to him from birth.” Albus tightened his hold on Gellert, protectively, reflexively. “She was taken from him in a cruel and gruesome manner, less than two years ago. Gellert blames himself.”

Hugo was silent for a moment.  
“Is he right to blame himself?”  
“I think not. The elves in his father’s house think not. But I know that you will need to make up your own mind. I will make sure that he tells you before we leave America, so that you can choose whether you want to go with us or not.”

Hugo nodded.  
“Call me if you need me.”  
Albus smiled sadly at Hugo. “I will. Thank you, Hugo.”  
Hugo nodded again and disappeared with a pop. 

Gellert stirred but soon settled again.  
“My love, my everything,” Albus whispered.  
He was surprised by Gellert answering back, “I love you, too.”  
“How long have you been awake, Love?”  
“Just now. I smell supper.”  
“Mmhmm – Hungry?”  
Gellert grasped Albus’ cock. “Very.”

Sure enough, Albus could feel Gellert’s erection pressing against his thigh. 

“No.”  
Gellert removed his hand. “No?” He asked uncertainly.  
“Hmm – yes. And no.”

Albus pushed Gellert onto his back, pinned him down, and kissed him, pressing his cock against Gellert’s.  
“This does – not feel like a no, Liebling,” Gellert observed. “It feels – like – a – Yes! Gods, yes –“

Albus smiled.  
“Mmmm... Yes - but - ah! - you! first."  
Albus pulled away just enough to be able to form a complete sentence. "I want to take care of you first of all.”  
Without further warning, he moved so that his head was between Gellert’s legs. He took Gellert’s cock in his hand, and sucked one of Gellert’s balls into his mouth. Gellert moaned. 

Tonight was not a night for taking his time, for covering Gellert in kisses as he worked his way down. He was giving Gellert no chance to get lost in his thoughts. He wanted Gellert to think only of his body, and of Albus, and of how Albus could make his body feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not-so-sexy language:  
> The word 'foreplay' wasn't coined until the 1920s - it was initially used in clinical publications to refer to all physical acts (excluding 'perversions') that might reasonably precede coitus. (Seriously. This is the kind of language we are talking about.)  
> 'Foreplay' remained a chiefly clinical word through the early 1960s. It was only later that decade that ordinary people could begin using this catch-all word to refer to any physical act that they considered sexual, but that would likely not lead to an orgasm... unless they were lucky enough for their foreplay to prove to have actually been be _fore_ something more in the line of a main event. But until the mid to late 1960s, they had to content themselves with describing these individual acts... individually.  
> When 'foreplay' first started being used for speech and body language ( ~~in the 1980s~~ it is not clear how much later, so I'm not going to make some half-assed guess), it was being used in something like a hyperbolic or sarcastic sense. So, in 1900, there was flirting, and there was seduction, but when Gellert picks a fight with Albus? It isn't only Albus who will not be thinking of it as 'foreplay.'
> 
> On canon:  
> What little information we are given about the Sasquatch Rebellion is scant, and frankly nonsensical. I am going to go ahead and allow that MACUSA was located in D.C. for some portion of time, and that they moved from D.C. to NYC in 1892, and that the reason given was ‘the Sasquatch Rebellion.’ The actual details of the events that are covered in the preceding sentence… will come into play later.
> 
> A related language note:  
> It seems a common notion that ‘Sasquatch’ is ‘an Indian word.’ Kind of. ‘Sasquatch’ is an Anglicization of a Halkomelem word (Halkomelem is a dialect of Salish, a language group indigenous to the Northwestern U.S. and British Columbia). This word was coined in the late 1920s, so already we have an anachronism with placing the ‘Sasquatch’ Rebellion in 1892. (And we all know how itchy anachronism makes me.) So – we are going to postulate that this is in fact a word coined first in the 1880s by a member of the Canadian Auror corps, who shared it with a friend of his who was a MACUSA agent in the Pacific Northwest. When the agent came back to the D.C. office, the word spread throughout the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.


	44. The Price of Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo gives a lecture on house elf bonds and the ‘implicit universal European contract’ between house elves and their masters.  
> But first…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here – have some porn 😘

Chapter 41  
October 1900

“Gellert?”  
“Albus?”  
Albus didn’t answer.  
He had been about to ask Gellert where they were headed next – if they were still going directly to North Africa or if they were instead returning to Constantinople or to Britain… Probably not Britain. 

Astride had been asking them to visit her in Belgium since they had met her. Maybe they would go there. She had a mixed family of Muggles and Wizards and Witches and Squibs – Gellert needed to see more of that, probably.

“Albus, Liebling. What is it?”  
He was Just. So. Tired. He had not been looking forward to going to America, and it had been even more difficult than he’d anticipated. It was no better feeling constantly monitored by a repressive government than feeling intermittently monitored by a hostile house elf. Now they were free of both constraints, and he just wanted to enjoy it for a little while. 

“Albus?”  
“Gellert?”

For more than a year, they hadn’t taken more than two weeks off from politics. He missed Godric’s Hollow. The first two months that he and Gellert had been together had been… two whole months. Not going anywhere or doing anything but reading and duelling and talking and taking walks and learning one another’s bodies. He remembered waking with Gellert each morning with nothing to do but enjoy being together. Albus didn’t mind work – writing and studying and experimenting. He would do that no matter what. But this travel…

“You got my attention and then – got stuck in your mind right away, Liebling, before I even said anything. You never do that. What is it?”

Gellert. This travel was important to Gellert.  
“Hmm? Oh. I was just – wondering where we were going next. We had said North Africa, but…”

Gellert bit his lip and regarded Albus for a moment before answering.

“Do you _want_ to go to North Africa?”  
“It seems the best thing to do before going to Sicily, since they expect all Magic users to arrive from Tripoli, so –“  
“Albus. You did not answer the question.”

Albus did not want to go to Tripoli. He wanted to find some bedroom away from everything and stay there forever. Not _forever_ forever, but at least long enough for him to become restless, to crave once again the challenge of remaking the world - another game in which he both selected the pieces and moved them on the board in a way that, if he played correctly, would feel to each pawn as if they were moving themselves - but on a bigger board with bigger stakes than the games he had played at Hogwarts. Yes, one day, Albus would need to return to the cafes and the parties and the late evenings drinking someone else’s whiskey in someone else’s library. He would want to, even... one day. But until then, he wanted to savour every last minute alone with Gellert, to stretch out the moments until it felt as if they had indeed achieved immortality, as Gellert had promised.

“Let us suppose that I do not want to leave Ireland immediately.”  
“Really?” Albus asked in relief.  
“Aha! You do _not_ want to go to North Africa!”

“I do! _Eventually._ Just – not right now. We’ve been travelling a long time, Gellert. Can we please take two weeks here? There aren’t many Wizards here anymore, so I know it isn’t very interesting, but –“

Gellert wrapped his arms around Albus. “You, my heart, are fascinating, so it is impossible that there would be a place that we can go where I would be bored. If you want to stay two weeks, we can stay two weeks. But if I am honest with you, I was hoping you would wish to stay more than two weeks.”

“You – what?”  
“I have been thinking –“  
Albus laughed, then kissed Gellert’s cheek. “Oh, have you?”  
“I _have_! I mean, this _particular_ idea may be new. Well, not exactly new, but –“  
Albus laughed harder. Gellert snatched a pillow off the bed and hit Albus with it.

“No, no! I want to hear about this new, not exactly new idea that you have been thinking about for quite some time! You must tell me what you _have been thinking_.”  
“No, I don’t believe I will now, if you are going to make fun. You will just have to wonder what I would have told you if you had listened to me.”  
“Don’t sulk! I’m just – “  
“Whatever you might think, Albus, usually when I say I have been thinking about something, I _actually have_ been thinking about it.”  
“I love you –“ Albus started, but Gellert rolled his eyes and turned with a huff. Ridiculous. Albus had just been teasing.

Albus transformed into a lynx and began rubbing against Gellert’s legs as if he were a housecat.  
“That is _not_ an apology.”  
The lynx began purring. He bumped his head against Gellert’s leg and then stretched, placing his front paws on Gellert's hip and tipping his head in what he hoped was a winning manner.  
Gellert's stern expression was ruined by a poorly repressed smirk.  
“Don’t think that I will be taken in by that," he scolded. "You may play at being a housecat, but you are too large for me to just carry around.”  
Gellert walked over to the bed and sat, patting the spot beside him as if he were, in fact, interacting with a housecat.  
“You can put those four legs to use and jump up here on your own.”  
The cat gracefully leapt up next to Gellert and immediately pushed his head into Gellert’s hand.  
“You cannot be serious.” 

Gellert scratched the lynx behind the ears, and then he settled with his head and two front paws resting on Gellert’s leg.  
“You are planning to sit quietly, then, are you? Albus did not seem to want to hear it, but perhaps _you_ are a better listener.”  
He began petting the lynx’s head. The creature's eyes closed and he drifted along on the sound of Gellert's voice, as he told him how ridiculous he was - too large for a cat, and too small to be intimidating, and other fond insults. It was so hypnotic that he might have fallen asleep if Gellert had taken any longer to shift into a tone of voice that was both serious and wistful.

“Albus and I, we don’t have a home anywhere. We have just been moving, moving all the time.” The lynx lifted up his head and looked up at Gellert.  
“Yes, ok, we have Bathilda, and she is kind and likes to take care of us, but… we need our very own home, in a place where we don’t know anyone and don’t _need_ to know anyone – where there aren’t many Magical people, and so there is no temptation to find someone to persuade and cultivate. A home of our own where we can just be alone together - I have been thinking about this ever since leaving Zagreb, just before Yule.  
“And now that we are in Ireland, it seems that this would be a good place. It is near to the Continent, and _very_ near to Britain, but it is unlikely that we will accidentally run into anyone we know here. Particularly if we choose a property that is sufficiently isolated.  
“ _I have been thinking_ of purchasing a cottage with Albus, and _now_ I am thinking that we should look for a cottage _here_ , before leaving, if he might want to take a bit more time off with me than just two weeks. But perhaps having a home is not so important to him, if he can’t –“

Albus was overwhelmed. Their own home? Together?  
The lynx sat up at attention and suddenly Albus was sitting in his place, just as mute as the cat had been. He attacked Gellert’s mouth with an enthusiasm that he hoped conveyed just how much he wanted this – a home with Gellert, a place they could retreat to alone whenever they needed… He had been wanting more, but _this much more?_ He wouldn’t have dared to wish for it. His hands were in Gellert’s hair and his tongue was in Gellert’s mouth, and –

Gellert pulled away breathing heavily.  
“So – it seems you like my idea after all.”  
“So much,” Albus answered, pushing Gellert back onto the bed. “Our own cottage? We can have sex in the living-room and the kitchen and the hall and the garden…”

“Oh, _garden_?” Gellert asked, scrambling to the middle of the bed and sitting back on his heels. He took a pillow and shook it at Albus in a threatening manner. “No, you were right in the beginning. I have not thought this through. We must reconsider. After all, gardening is not in Hugo’s contract.”  
“ _Not strictly speaking,_ but if it were just a simple –“  
Gellert turned his head and raised his voice, as if calling into another room. “I hope you are noticing, Hugo, which of us is sticking up for you!”

Albus crawled over to Gellert and straddled him.  
“It doesn’t matter. Just that you want a home with me is enough. Gods. I hadn’t even thought of it, but now –“  
Albus had no words. He kissed Gellert again, coaxing his mouth open and exploring it urgently. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to breathe. But he did need – he needed –

He vanished Gellert’s shirt and pulled back long enough to say, “Need you. _Right now_ ,” but not long enough to remove any more clothing before an owl began tapping at the window. Albus groaned and got off of Gellert and out of bed. 

Hugo popped into view. “No, Albus. The two of you do not need an interruption when you are having such a serious –“ Hugo looked down. Was he blushing? “ – conversation.”  
Hugo opened the window for the owl, took the letters, gave her a treat, and closed the window. “And I happen to enjoy gardening.”  
He then popped out of sight, letters and all.

“What just happened?” Albus asked.  
“What happened is that we received further evidence that we met the right elf.”

“I – umm. Do you still want to –“  
Gellert pulled his hair back in both hands and held it there.  
“That was – quite an interruption. An owl? Already?”

Albus sighed. “That’s my fault. I owled Bathilda yesterday and asked her to send anything that she had received for us, since we had set her house as the collection point while we were in America.”  
“Ah.”

“I – thought we were in a hurry,” Albus said apologetically.  
“No, you were right, Love. It’s fine. Just – unexpected.”  
Gellert lay on his side facing Albus.  
“Lay here with me? Perhaps – let’s talk some more, first. Have our _serious conversation_ ,” Gellert said with a smirk.

Albus disappeared all of his clothing save his pants.  
“Ok, yes, I did not specify that you lay here with me with your clothes on. You’re not impatient at all.”  
“You just – I need you every minute. We’ve been with other people all the time…”  
Albus got into bed, crawled towards Gellert, and pushed him onto his back. Then he lay on top of Gellert and looked at him, every feature memorized, every expression known. Had he ever loved Gellert more than he did in this moment?  
He kissed him softly on the lips, then tenderly placed kisses all over his face, slowly, thoughtfully. He had been feeling so urgent before, but it was sinking in that they had time, and Albus was feeling now like spending that time taking a tour of Gellert’s body with his mouth. 

“I’ve never – I feel like before I met you, I never knew what it meant to –“  
Meant to – what? Meant to be free? Meant to feel safe? Meant to be loved?  
“I want to have you all to myself for as long as we can manage.”

Albus bent down again to suck on Gellert’s shoulder. He ran his teeth lightly towards Gellert’s neck, then slowly licked and kissed and nuzzled his way up to Gellert’s ear. “You are _everything_ to me,” he whispered.  
Gellert groaned. “Albus –“

Albus lifted up his head. “I want to know more about this cottage. Tell me?”  
He bent back down and sucked Gellert’s earlobe into his mouth.  
“Ah – “  
“Yes, Love?”  
“It should be in – ah! - a forest –“  
“Mmmhmm? Yes, good idea. It has been a couple of months since I have taken you against a tree,” Albus said, grinding against Gellert.

“Oh, you are wicked.”  
“I learned from a true master,” Albus answered.  
“Then you must be an _excellent_ student,” Gellert said, taking Albus’ head in his hands and pulling him in for a long deep kiss.

“Tell me more,” Albus said, pushing himself up onto his elbows.  
His hair was falling down around his face. A month or two more, and he would need to start tying it back when they were in bed together.  
“We will tell no one where it is.”  
“Good – no more interruptions –“  
“No more interruptions,” Gellert agreed, and he removed the rest of their clothing.

Albus gasped at the feeling of Gellert’s hard cock against his own, a shock of pleasure that was familiar and yet somehow also surprising, this and every time.  
Gellert pulled him down and kissed him hungrily, as if he hadn’t seen Albus in days.  
Albus rocked against Gellert, and Gellert tangled his hands in Albus’ hair. Albus groaned into the kiss. Gellert broke away and Albus lifted his head just enough to focus on Gellert properly, to see him looking up at Albus as if he held every answer to every question that he could ever care to ask.  
“Make me ready for you.”

Albus ran his knuckles slowly against Gellert’s cheek. He loved him so much he couldn’t make words. The pressure in his chest, surely it was from the accumulation of every word he couldn’t say - not because he didn’t want to say them, but because the words had not yet been invented - the words that would describe this moment, the moment as they tumbled over the edge together into an expansiveness that was somehow also tightly localized, so that one small bed might become a universe.

Albus kissed his way down Gellert’s chest, whispering the lubrication charm. He had been able to cast it wordlessly for more than a year, but there was something about saying the words aloud that seemed to say, ‘I need you,’ and ‘I love you,’ and ‘your body is precious to me.’ He reached Gellert’s belly and lingered there as he stroked Gellert’s hole with his finger.  
He moved his mouth towards Gellert’s side, and as he pressed in the first finger, he sucked on the flesh just below Gellert’s ribs. Gellert moaned, as he so reliably did when Albus put his mouth there. 

“Tell me what you need.”  
“More –“  
“More?”  
“Another – gods! Another finger – gods, Albus, please! I –“  
“Too soon – I want you to –“  
“Albus - !”

When had Albus transitioned from worship to torture? He couldn’t say. He did know that Gellert would not let him get away with it for much longer, so he was going to make the most of it. He moved further down and lightly nipped Gellert just north of where the dense thatch of his hair began. He reached a hand up to pinch and roll Gellert’s nipple while the other stilled as Albus murmured the lubrication charm again. He pulled his finger almost all the way out, but instead of adding a second, he thrust the one back in suddenly. Gellert shouted. 

“Are you sure you still want – “  
“Albus - ! Do not make me Imperius you!”  
Albus laughed and pulled his finger out entirely.  
“Threatening me? It seems that I ought to leave, for my own safety.”  
“You always did say that I am a dangerous man.”  
Yes, Gellert was dangerous. And Albus couldn’t live without him, which was perhaps the most dangerous thing of all.

Albus slowly worked in two fingers. He knew exactly where to find the spot he was looking for. He pressed firmly and Gellert gasped.  
Albus smiled. “I can throw off your Imperius, you know.”  
“But you wouldn’t want to.”  
“No.”

Albus stilled his hand again.  
“Hmm – this might take a while.”  
“It will not!” Gellert responded indignantly. “You fucked me just yesterday afternoon, and –“  
Albus laughed. “I love you. May the gods spare us, I love you endlessly.”

This declaration drew Albus back into the serious consideration of his husband’s body, laid out before him. He ran a hand down Gellert’s side, ending by grasping his hip. He took the head of Gellert’s cock into his mouth and sucked on it, as he began scissoring his fingers. Then he licked Gellert’s cock in slow broad strokes, from the base to the tip.

Gellert moaned. No words, just the sound of a man who had everything and wanted still more.  
Albus lifted up his head and asked, “Three?”  
“Please – your cock – need you now – need you – need –“

As Gellert was chanting his need, Albus removed his fingers and knelt between Gellert’s spread legs. He summoned a pillow and placed it under Gellert’s hips. Then he prodded Gellert’s hole gently with his cock.  
“Ready?”  
“Soooo ready – so – Albus!!” Gellert cried out as Albus breached him. “Yes! yes yes yes yes yes yes yes…”

Albus stopped and laughed. “So – yes?”  
Gellert groaned. “I hate you.”  
“I know. I am a terrible husband,” Albus confessed with a smile as he resumed working his way into Gellert. 

“Faster –“ Gellert gasped.  
“I don’t know. I think I love you too much to let you be fucked by someone you hate. Perhaps we should just –“  
Gellert laughed. “I love you, you Merlin-cursed son of a jarvey. Take me, take me hard, I want –“  
Albus groaned. The way Gellert was begging him, he couldn’t hold back any longer. He gripped Gellert’s legs so tightly he was sure to leave a mark and began pounding into him.  
“Mine,” he growled.  
“Yours,” Gellert gasped in agreement.

Everywhere he and Gellert were touching was lit up, sensation driving every thought away. He looked at where they were joined and groaned to see his cock disappearing into Gellert again and again.  
He straightened one of Gellert’s legs so that it laid against his chest and up past his shoulder. “Albus –“ Gellert whined. 

Albus cast the lubrication spell one last time, and grasped Gellert’s cock.  
He looked into Gellert’s eyes and began pumping him in time with his thrusts.  
“Komm für mich.”  
“Albus!”  
Gellert’s muscles squeezed around Albus and the come shot out of Gellert’s cock and onto his chest. That was the last thing that Albus saw before his every sensation concentrated and then disappeared into a noiseless noise.

He heard himself gasping before he felt it. He looked at Gellert, covered in come and sweat and grinning up at him, and Albus started laughing.  
“I love you. Fuck. More than anything.”

Albus slowly pulled out and cast a Scourgify on them both.  
He lay down next to Gellert, and Gellert rolled over against him, and kissed his shoulder.  
“Mmm. Perfect.”  
“I think I’m still –“  
“Oh?” Gellert asked, deviously. He reached down to touch Albus’ cock and it jumped against his hand. 

“Aaa!” Albus shouted.  
“Ok,” Gellert agreed, moving his hand from Albus’ cock onto his chest. He mischievously tweaked a nipple.  
“Gellert!”  
“Yes, ok. Sorry.”  
“No, you’re not.”  
“I am a little.”  
Albus sighed. “Behave?”  
“Yes,” Gellert agreed.

They lay there for a long time before Albus began to feel cold, and drew the covers up over them.  
“So this house – you think we can afford - ?”  
“You can’t possibly expect me to know, if I haven’t really given it any thought.”  
“Gellert –“ Albus warned.

“Yes, we can afford it. If anything, buying a house here would cost less than what we spent travelling in the past six months.”  
They had been rather… profligate, since it had been revealed that Gellert still had an allowance.  
“We should maybe be a bit more conservative with our spending? We shouldn’t be making a habit –“  
“Having money to spend makes us look important.”

Albus found that offensive. His family had never had any money to spend. If it had not been for Gellert…  
“Why do you think Lord Dupuis is paying you for your information? It is not just because he wants your loyalty, not just because it makes him feel that he is allied to someone who will one day be influential. It is because he does not want to be seen to be associating with someone who is too financially strapped to be of any consequence.”  
“That’s idiotic!”  
“I agree. But it is how the world works.”  
“For now.”  
“For now,” Gellert agreed.

They were both silent for a time.  
Gellert kissed Albus’ shoulder again. Albus was still alert and sensitive all over, but not to the point of agony, as he had been before – at this very moment, Gellert's lips on his skin felt like love and rest and –

“It also makes people inclined not to look too closely at our relationship.”  
“What?! The money? Really?”  
“Well, the money and my name, but yes - the money. Speaking of idiotic.”

The thought of money buying them this privilege, the ability to enjoy one another’s bodies unquestioned, to travel together and room together...  
“My turn,” Albus said.  
Gellert rolled onto his back, and Albus lay with his head on his chest, one leg thrown over Gellert’s legs. Gellert stroked his hair. 

“There are so many people who don't have what we –“  
“I know, Love, I know. I shouldn’t have – not so soon after –“  
“No, it’s –“

“Don’t, Albus. Reassuring me isn't worth bleeding over.”  
“But it _is_ ok. You were thinking about it, and if you are thinking about it, I want to know. Anyway, I’m the one who brought up money.”  
Gellert wrapped his arm around Albus and squeezed him, then returned his hand to Albus’ hair. Albus felt Gellert’s magic wrap around him, comforting him. 

“So many things need changing.”  
“It is a good thing Wizards live such a long time,” Gellert responded.  
That was true. Assuming that Gellert did not discover the secret of immortality, they were still powerful enough that they had a good chance of living 200 more years, or perhaps even longer. 200 years. 200 more years with Gellert. That did not sound like enough time. He understood that mad impulse to stand in the face of death and say, 'No.'

But that thought was for another day.

“Should we –“  
“Let Hugo know he can come back?” Gellert asked with a laugh. “Probably.”  
That had not been what Albus was going to suggest at all, but before he could correct Gellert, he was calling, “Hugo?”  
The elf popped into view and immediately turned his back on them. “Are you quite certain?” Hugo asked. 

Albus had to laugh. “You can always trust that Gellert will not call you before he has finished.”  
Gellert looked over at Albus.  
‘Before I - ? You weren’t finished, Liebling! I should have - ’  
‘No, I was, it is just - I was enjoying laying here alone with you, feeling relaxed and content and in love.’  
‘I’m so sorry, Albus. I should not have assumed that you were ready.’

Hugo turned back to face them.  
“I notice that you did not say that _you_ would not, Albus,” he said disapprovingly.  
“Perhaps it would be safest to return only when _I_ call,” Gellert teased.

Albus bit down on Gellert’s shoulder in retaliation, and he yelped.  
Hugo cleared his throat, as if to remind the Albus that he was still there. Gellert spelled a shirt and some pants on both Albus and himself, and then he gently pushed Albus off of him and sat up.

Albus sighed.  
Gellert reached down and laid his fingers on Albus’ cheek.  
“I love you.”  
‘I’m so sorry.’  
Albus smiled weakly.  
‘Enough apologizing. Soon we’ll figure out how to navigate this new situation.’

Gellert turned to face Hugo.  
“You have some letters for us?”  
Hugo hesitated. “Perhaps you would prefer to just lay in bed a little while longer while I procure your lunch.”  
“Or perhaps we should read –“  
“After all, if Madam Bagshot had been slower to respond, you would not have known that you have letters.”

“True, but –“  
“It is my recommendation that you wait until after you have found a home.”  
“But that could be –“  
“With my assistance, it will not take very long. Purchasing a piece of property is the first unquestionably good decision I have seen you make in the past two and a half weeks. Although there is still time for one of you to ruin -”

“Hugo. The letters?”  
“Ah, yes. The letters. I suggest that you authorize me to open your mail. I can admit that it is my mistake that I did not think of it before now, but it is not my responsibility to anticipate every eventuality. No, I apologize. That you would receive mail was something any fool should have been able to anticipate.”  
“Mail?... Ah, you mean post. But, Hugo -”  
“I will know the contents once you have opened them, anyway. Taking on an elf renders the concept of privacy meaningless. If I were to be the one to open your _post_ , I would be able to order the letters to their best effect. Whereas in this case -”

“ _In this case_ , you cannot possibly know anything that would so delay you from giving us the letters.”  
“Well, you see… It was Löwenzahn who suggested…”  
“Löwenzahn?!”

Albus propped himself up on one elbow.  
“Gellert. This is very simple. You are too much in the habit of dealing with European elves. You will have to unambiguously _order_ Hugo to give you the letters. The contract clearly states… Oh, never mind. Hugo, just give us the letters. Now, please.”  
Hugo brought the letters and slapped them onto the bed, muttering, “Fine. Don’t trust my judgment then. It is not as if I have been of age longer than you have been alive. But I’m just an elf…”

“It is not about you being an elf, Hugo. They are _our letters_. We always read our letters right away.”  
Gellert turned towards Albus and ran his fingers over the buttons of Albus’ shirt and said in a teasing tone, “Not _always_ , Liebling,” at the same time that Hugo countered, “There are times when you ought not to read them right away.”

Albus sighed and sat up. He took the letters in his hand.  
“I would never have expected that an owl could carry so many letters,” he mused. “They must have been –“  
“Madam Bagshot fit them into one envelope, yes. It is not a simple Reducio, nor is it a primitive extension charm applied to the envelope. She used a specialized charm that I had thought was only known to house elves, particularly those who serve government officials. It is unusual enough that I am familiar with it, but for a Witch… your aunt must be extraordinary, Gellert. It makes me wonder…”

Ordinarily, Albus would have been interested in any knowledge of this sort, but he was beginning to weary of Hugo’s obstructionism.  
“Hugo. I am warning you. Do not try to delay me further. You will only succeed in making me cross.”  
“Yes, Master,” Hugo said sarcastically.  
Albus shot him a look, then returned his attention to the letters.

“Bathilda, of course. Wolf, Aberforth, Taranis… Oh, this is interesting – Davit. Hmm. Lord Dupuis, Mr. Harley, Bozena, Ariana… I don’t know this one…” He set aside the mystery letter. “Astride… Hmm. Vinda? I think?… ”  
“You are in correspondence with Vinda?” Gellert asked incredulously.  
“Naturally.”  
“Naturally,” Gellert echoed dully.

“You said she would become important. In any case, I met with her when we were in Paris last, and we reached an understanding.”  
“An understanding… Albus, I thought you didn’t like her.”  
“I didn’t, but _she_ likes _you_. You were right from the start. Anyone who is that loyal to you… We can talk about it when I finish sorting through these letters, ok?”

Albus lifted up Gellert’s hand and kissed it.  
“I’m almost done – this is the last one… Oh dear.” He showed the envelope to Gellert. “Am I right that this is from Drahomir?”  
“Yes – why ‘oh dear’?”  
Because he was too observant, and his loyalty was uncertain.

“I suspect it is about Bozena.”  
“Ah. Perhaps we should open that one first, then.”  
“Or the one from Davit – get it over with.”  
“Save Aunt Bathilda for last – she’s reliably witty.”

Albus noticed Hugo shifting uneasily. There had been nothing particularly untoward about this stack of mail. Excepting… his attention turned to the envelope from the unknown sender.  
“We have not yet determined –“ Gellert began, reaching for it.  
“Gellert! I am warning you –“ Hugo interrupted, to no avail.  
Gellert picked the envelope up and immediately dropped it again.

“Wand,” Gellert said in a tight voice.  
“Gellert?”  
“Wand, Albus.”

Albus reached out his hand, and the Wand flew off the bedside table and into his hand. He passed it to Gellert, who began moving it in elaborate patterns and muttering too quietly for Albus to hear.  
“Gellert?”  
Gellert didn’t answer, his focus consumed by the letter and the Wand moving over it.  
Hugo spoke up. “It is from his father.” 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

After lunch, the envelope lay on the desk, still untouched. Hugo had procured food for them both, somehow, but Gellert would likely have eaten nothing had Hugo not urged an apple on him.

Gellert sat in an upholstered chair by the fireplace. He had closed himself off, even resisting Albus’ suggestion that they sit together in bed, with Gellert surrounding Albus in the way that had seemed, before now, to improve almost any situation. Albus could allow that Gellert might need time to gather his thoughts, but it had been two hours, and it was not clear whether Gellert was thinking or brooding. He would try to reach Gellert again shortly, but right now, he had some questions for their too knowledgeable elf.

“Hugo?” Albus called.  
Hugo popped into view.  
“Hugo, how did you know that that particular letter was from Gellert’s father?”  
Hugo sat in the one empty chair in the room.  
“This is going to take some time. I will not be standing as if I am leaving any moment.”

That seemed – unnecessarily defensive. Had Hugo expected that Albus would not allow him to use the furniture? Albus found himself glad to be a Half-blood, with few expectations for how elves ought to behave.

“Of course,” Albus answered. “So? You have not known us three weeks. And somehow you recognized the Grindelwald family seal?"  
It occurred to Albus that he had never seen the Grindelwald family seal himself until today. 

“You told me to look for other elves... I should tell you that I’ve seen Manni, I think, but just the once, when we were about a day out from shore. He appeared to be alarmed to see me – I imagine I won’t be seeing him again soon. At least not until he thinks he has a strategy for removing me from you and Gellert, but given the strength of our contract, that won’t be easy.”  
“Your contract? But what does that have to do with – Isn’t there something more we can do to protect you?”

Before Albus had called Hugo, Gellert’s eyes had variously been on the fire, the carpet, and his own hands. But Albus had noticed Gellert becoming more attentive as he and Hugo spoke with one another, even as his eyes remained averted. Now, with this last question of Albus’, Gellert looked up at Albus, and then at Hugo, as if waiting for his reply.

“We can return to these questions later. Right now -”  
“Hugo – “ Albus looked at Gellert and back at the elf. “We need to know _now_ exactly how safe you are.”  
Albus watched as Hugo’s face relaxed into an expression of understanding.

“Very well. Albus' power is... _adequate_ , magically speaking, even if his education leaves something to be desired. The strength of our bond is rooted in the way our contract is worded, which I ensured would be many times stronger than any European elf’s, and it is fuelled by Albus’ magic, which is – stronger than I would expect from a Wizard. So, I am well protected.  
“I should not have said… ‘Not easy’ was an understatement. It would be more true to say ‘all but impossible.’ If someone other than Albus were to try to injure me, the contract would physically return me to him, however far apart we might be, unless to do so would put me in more danger. And if Albus were to try so much as to strike me, the contract would be broken, and I would be transported immediately into the elven space, the space between the spaces, where no Wizard may reach.”  
Albus had so many questions. Elven space? The contract created a bond? A bond that drew on Albus’ magic? He truly had stumbled into this relationship blindly.

“Now. If that is satisfactory?”  
“No,” Gellert interrupted. “No, it is not. If you disappeared into this ‘elven space,’ you would still be at risk from Manni. Is that right?”  
“True, but he would have no motivation to injure me if I were no longer in your service.”  
“So you would be better off –“

“No, Gellert,” Hugo said gently. “No. A free elf, unprotected by a Wizard, alone in Europe? No. I’d be in far more danger than I am now from your father’s elf. It is also true that I have no desire to leave your service. If nothing else, it is an opportunity to meet and educate elves around Europe and elsewhere in the world, if they exist in other places. Free elves cannot travel safely.”

Hugo paused, as if leaving room for further protest. When it didn’t come, he continued.  
“Very good. I allowed myself to get off track, because as soon as I began to tell you that I had met Löwenzahn in the elven space last night, I remembered that I had not yet told you about the elf who was likely, but not definitively, Manni.  
“But the question you asked first was about the letter. Löwenzahn surprised me with his appearance last night. He said that Gellert’s brother has tasked him with looking in on the two of you periodically.”  
“And you believed him.”

“That his name is Löwenzahn? That is of little consequence. But that he is benevolent? I hope that you think better of me than that I would have accepted such a claim blindly, especially given the situation you find yourself in. No. There was a bond of obligatory care between him and both Gellert and yourself. We can trust this ‘Löwenzahn.’”

Well, naturally they could trust Löwenzahn, if that was truly who this elf was. But Hugo had said something about -  
“A bond of obligatory care?”  
“Yes. A bond of obligatory care can only be placed on an elf by their master.”

Albus raised his eyebrow at hearing Hugo say ‘master.’  
“Yes, I know, I am not fond of the word, but it is helpful for describing that singular relationship, and few would recognize what I was talking about if I tried to substitute another title. I would appreciate it if we could move on?”  
Albus nodded.

“A bond of obligatory care is formed when an elf’s master orders them clearly to tend to the needs of another. For instance, I currently only carry two bonds – a bond of friendship with yourself, and a bond of obligatory care with Gellert that you placed on me.”  
“Albus –“ Gellert growled.  
“I didn’t – Gellert, I did not _bind_ Hugo to you. I don’t know -“

“You don’t have to know that you are forming such a bond in order to form one. Given the depth of your feelings for Gellert, it was inevitable that you would create a bond of obligatory care between him and myself at some point, but at the time I did not know that, so I was surprised by the intensity of the bond that was formed. You told me, ‘Take care of Gellert as well as you would take care of me.’ Perhaps you do not remember saying this.”

Albus _did_ remember. It seemed to him in the moment to be the most important order he would ever give to Hugo. Hugo’s magic had apparently thought so, as well.

“Naturally you need not have spoken those _exact_ words, but saying them created a stronger bond than is usually the case – a bond analogous to the bond of elf and master, without the limitations of specificity. It was very lucky that these were the first instructions you gave me concerning your husband, given how ignorantly you stumbled into this bond. ‘The protective magic of love,’ I suppose.” Hugo added, actually making sarcastic little quote marks in the air with his fingers.  
“And Gellert is not so irritating as to be intolerable. I’m sure it made a difference that I do not find his presence to be a complete imposition, in spite of his obnoxious behaviour and ill-considered opinions…”  
Albus snorted. 

“I could provide further instruction on the matter of bonds, or I could give you just the amount of information you need to answer the question of how I knew that you would not want to look at those letters immediately after –“  
He waved his hand at the bed again.

“We’re going to help him come up with a euphemism for that,” Gellert said.  
“I rather like the handwaving,” Albus argued. “It makes for a marvellous contrast with his usual didactic tone.”  
“Saying ‘fuck’ would be an even better contrast, don’t you think? I think we need to teach him to say fuck.”  
“The problem with that is that it is not _always_ fucking. So that would not be accurate.”  
“Yes, and it is important always to be accurate, isn’t it Hugo?”

Gellert smiled at Hugo broadly. Hugo scowled, but did not otherwise reply. Albus hoped that it was less that they had embarrassed Hugo, or that his feelings were hurt than that Hugo recognized the detour for what it likely was: an attempt on Gellert’s part to delay getting to the part where they opened the letter. That, and Gellert’s usual strategy of hiding pain underneath humor and affability. If they wanted Gellert to engage at all, this was the Gellert they were getting.  
Still, Albus determined that he would check in with Hugo later and make sure that no harm had been done. Gellert still hurt _Albus_ with his teasing sometimes, and Hugo did not have the benefit of having known Gellert for longer than a month. Not that Albus could blame Gellert entirely. After all, he had played along with Gellert’s teasing.

“I apologize, Hugo, that we, umm, yes... Unnecessary. I understand if you want not to continue telling us your story after we so rudely… ah… hmm. Right. I’m not going to ask you directly and so make it impossible for you to refuse –“  
“Oh, it would not be _impossible_ to refuse. It is always possible for me to choose to leave your service if I prefer not to comply.”

Everyone was quiet for a moment. They all knew that it was true, and while they all knew that Hugo would never refuse an order to share information on the basis of the order itself, they all also knew that such a refusal could be an instrument with which Hugo might break their contract without ever referring to the earlier conversation at his expense. And while he had only minutes ago protested that he had no desire to leave them, they were all aware that only Hugo knew what would constitute an offense sufficient to justify severing the relationship.  
If Hugo did not know them very well, neither did they know Hugo yet – not well enough to know his limits. They had been disrespectful, and it seemed that Hugo was inviting them to think about that.

Gellert was the first to speak, “That would be a shame, when we still have so much to learn from you.”  
Hugo huffed.  
“Very well. I will not leave your husband’s service today. Probably.”  
Albus was relieved to hear the house elf sounding like himself.  
“Thank you, Hugo. We will endeavour to be more careful from now on.”  
“We shall see whether the two of you are capable of being careful or not.”

They were all quiet for a moment. Gellert was back to looking at his hands. Albus sighed and caught Hugo’s eyes. He inclined his head in Gellert’s direction. Hugo rolled his eyes.

“This seems a good time for an introduction to the bond of friendship, after all. Most – masters – are unfamiliar with the structure and history of the bond, and it is in fact Emmerich’s ignorance of the mechanics of the bond that is responsible for his former elf's status at the moment. The man is frighteningly competent only in some limited ways, and incompetent in other, less obvious ways, and the fact that he doesn’t know this about himself gives us the advantage.”  
“Us?” Gellert asked, looking up.  
“Yes, I am probably not leaving tomorrow, either. No more interruptions, or I will begin to refer to you as the post owl.”  
Gellert smiled for a moment, then returned to looking at his hands.

“The bond between an elf and their master is meant to be one of mutual respect and caretaking, and _we_ have properly contracted our bond to that end. However, in most places, that bond has become one-sided. When it became standard in Europe, for instance, for house-elves to be treated as property, the contract became universally applied, through implicit acceptance. The implicit universal European contract requires the master to do no more than what is required to keep an elf alive, while the elf is bound to act always in the interest of their master, even without needing to be given specific orders.  
“Questions so far?”

“So, when you say implicit acceptance – it is possible for the house elf bond to be different from this in Europe?”  
“No. Though it is implicit, it is inviolable. The bond is set when it is formed. By the European standard, the moment an elf is born to a bound elf, that infant is itself bound under the same contract to its mother’s master. And it is magically impossible for an elf who is bound under the European model to rebel. This is why there is such a horror of freeing elves among Wizarding families – a free elf may choose whom to serve. However, a free elf is also without protection, and few Wizards will take in a free elf, for fear of them. As a result, often they die – generally of despair or starvation, though sometimes, in their weakened state, of violence. An elf draws sustenance from a bond of friendship, and is therefore too powerful, ordinarily, to be taken by surprise when so bound.”

Albus held up a hand to stop Hugo and turned to look at Gellert. He looked no different from how he had been before, but that did not mean that he was feeling no different.  
“Gellert? Liebling?”  
Gellert waved his hand. “Continue.”

“Generally speaking, the bond of friendship requires an elf to act in the way that their master’s most trusted friend might do, with the caveat that they are also bound to follow direct orders, and these orders take precedence over whatever an elf might determine to be in the best interest of their master. Properly entered into, a bond of friendship also requires the master to be a friend to the elf, considering their elf’s interest, tending to them, and advocating for them. Most elves in Europe are unaware of their contracts, and the knowledge has been utterly lost among European Witches and Wizards, so that any one of them who might be so inclined to form new contracts does not know that such a thing is possible.”

“Form new contracts? Does this mean that a new contract might be formed with a free elf? So that a Wizard who wanted to break the cycle could free his elves and re-contract them under more equitable terms?”  
“And be assassinated by the fearful majority if he were to be found out, correct.”  
Not if several Wizards undertook to do so at the same time. Phineas might be willing to make an effort to persuade other Wizards of the wisdom of such a change. But Albus would not risk Phineas’ life. It was better for Phineas not to have this information until Albus had a plan – who knew what such a tender-hearted man might feel obliged to do?

Albus sighed.  
Hugo nodded. “So. We can set this aside as a distraction from our current situation? Good. We are getting to the important part. There was once a bond of friendship between Emmerich and Didi. But not knowing about the requirements of the bond of friendship, he accidentally freed his personal elf. This is the second time he has done so. He has also killed an elf, but that was done in a rage, without the intent to kill, which is what made it possible.  
“You see, it is not possible to form a bond of friendship that is entirely one sided. So, the universal European contract carries with it an obligation on the part of the master never to intend to kill an elf with which they share such a bond. As a result, the moment this intention arises, the elf is freed from fulfilling their contract.”

Gellert stood and walked behind the chair, leaning on its back as if it were a wall. This talk of killing house elves – apparently Hugo’s concept of taking care of Gellert was different from his own.  
But Albus could not deny that this information would be useful in the long run. If Hugo was right about the ‘European contract,’ then that was further evidence that the intent to harm Zinnie had not been native to Gellert. Her magic must have interpreted this limitation strictly – too strictly for the bond between herself and Gellert to be broken, so that his command for her to lay still held, even as he held the knife to her body. Gellert’s father might not have known the mechanism of the bond of friendship, but he had circumvented it with precision.

“Because Didi’s bond was broken by Emmerich’s flagrant violation of the contract, Didi is no longer bound to serve Lord Grindelwald, but he still has access to the resources of House Grindelwald, until such time as Lord Grindelwald either makes reparations, which we know Emmerich will not do, or arranges for Didi to join another’s service, which Emmerich does not know is necessary.  
“He likely anticipates that Didi will die of neglect shortly. But the elves of House Grindelwald are able to provide Didi with food, as their contract requires, as sustaining Didi’s life is, in fact, a form of service to House Grindelwald, fulfilling Lord Grindelwald's obligation of care. However, because Didi might freely cross the wards if he desired to do so, his continued existence may not be in Emmerich's best interests. Didi can not physically injure him, but that does not prevent him from creating problems for Emmerich. But these other elves, the kitchen elves and so on, unlike Manni, and unlike Didi before him, serve House Grindelwald as a whole, and are loyal to every member of that House and responsible for their care. As Lord Grindelwald himself continues to harm his wife and children, they are faced with the possibility that it would serve the interests of the house if they were to allow Didi to disrupt his life after all.  
"In short, Didi presents the Grindelwald elves with some difficulty. There is nothing more distressing to the constitution of an elf than contradictory contractual demands. So, the Sterntal elves have been caring for Didi using the resources of House Grindelwald, in order to fulfill the requirement that Didi be cared for. The Grindelwald elves provide food to the Sterntal elves, and the Sterntal elves then provide food to Didi, so that the Grindelwald elves may act to support Didi _indirectly_ , and so be less distressed by the contradiction.”  
“Sterntal elves?”

Gellert gripped the back of the chair more tightly.  
“My mother’s family. Hugo means Löwenzahn and my mother’s elf, Nelke.”

“It is a remarkably symbiotic – “ Hugo began, but he was interrupted by a guttural shout. 

Gellert flipped the chair he had lately been standing behind and shouted once more. Hugo popped away quietly.  
Gellert fell to his knees and began beating the floor with his fists. Albus left him to his rage until his punches began to slow and fall more softly. Then he knelt down next to Gellert, and Gellert crawled into his arms and sobbed in a way that Albus had ceased expecting long ago. He held Gellert silently, remembering Ariana’s assertion that if Gellert cried as often as he ought to do, he would dehydrate. 

“Don’t think, feel,” Albus reminded himself. He felt Gellert’s body heaving in his arms, his muscles contracting and releasing. The fabric of his shirt was so wet with tears that it was sticking to his shoulder. Gellert was gasping as if trying to relearn how to breathe. Gellert’s body was heavy in his lap, and so warm.

Gellert was his – his responsibility. This, too, was not so much a thought as a feeling, a heaviness settling in his chest as he absorbed some of Gellert’s pain, as Gellert’s magic darkened and consumed the air in the room. Albus tried to find the brightness in himself, his love and hopefulness, his conviction that Gellert would survive this, too – that Gellert’s passion for beauty, his playfulness, his delight in learning new things – that all of these things were always as much a part of him as his injuries, even when Gellert could not see the truth of this himself. Albus reached out with his magic and directed it to mingle with the darkness filling the room, to dissipate it slowly, as the sun dissolves the fog. 

As Gellert’s magic lightened, he collapsed further into Albus’ arms, as if the last of his energy had been rooted in his despair. Albus refused this notion. It was the despair that had drained him. Any sustenance it provided was false and poisonous. It was part of Gellert, at least for now – Albus had no choice but to accept that. But it could not be trusted to carry Gellert any distance.

“Stand up,” Albus instructed.  
“I can’t.”  
“You can. Come on. Up.”

Gellert slowly dragged himself to standing, and Albus, who had been trapped under him, stood too. He lifted up Gellert’s hands, knuckles bloody from where he had battered them against the floor. Albus looked down and removed the blood from the carpet. He looked back at Gellert’s hands. 

Gellert pulled his hands out of Albus’ grasp and took several steps back.  
“You want me to leave them for now?”  
"Please." 

Gellert looked away, and Albus felt himself being dragged across the floor. He couldn’t be _sure_ whether Gellert was doing it on purpose or not, but he imagined he was not – Gellert looked very much like he did when he was feeling untouchable. It seemed his magic disagreed. Albus only came to a stop when he was so close to Gellert that his nose was pressed into his neck. He wrapped his arms around Gellert and held him, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Gellert mirrored the gesture.

“She didn’t have to – if I had – if Father had not –“  
“Yes. He was even crueller than he knew. But now you can know for certain that you did not in any way mean for her to die. This fear you had that you ‘might have done it anyway,’ we know that you would not have. You _know_ , Gellert. And now you can grieve her properly, because no matter who held the knife, your father alone was responsible. He had no contract with her, and you had no desire for her to die.”  
Gellert did not answer but shuddered in Albus’ arms. 

“Do you want to lay down, Angel? I – if it were me, I would be exhausted.”  
“What I want is to kill him.”

Albus smiled against his will. Good. Albus wanted to kill him, too. Had wanted to do so for a long time. He hoped that they did not lose Hugo over the matter, but preventing Emmerich from doing any further injury to Gellert – or to anyone else, but mostly to Gellert – was Albus’ priority.

He stepped back out of Gellert’s arms so that he could look at him. Yes, he looked to be almost back in control.  
“I am looking forward to it. But given that he is not in the room at the moment, and that we have no plan…”  
Albus walked to the desk.  
“I imagine the first step is to open this letter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This got away from me, LOL  
> I guess they’ll be opening the (ominous?) letter in the next chapter.
> 
> In language notes, I find it encouraging that people have been 'sticking up for' one another since at least 1792.
> 
> In foreign language notes, we have a bit of 'Bedroom German' (with many thanks to Aiflenoif):  
> Komm für mich = ‘Come for me’


	45. Making a Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo is not only a watchdog, a spy, and a philosopher. It seems he is also an estate agent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No need for a lot of language / history notes this time, so instead, I’m doing fic recs!  
> Or, really, author recs :)
> 
> There are a lot of other works for this ship that I _love_ , but in addition to individual works, there are three authors whom I follow (well, more than 3, but I’m giving you the 3 who write GG/AD fics), so that I can see every time they post something new.  
> I recommend that you check out their works pages in general, but I am linking here to the crackiest fics each of them have written, because I am not in a place where I can handle angst right now, and I am projecting onto all of you ;)  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Verivala: [Oh Baby (You Are Driving Me Crazy)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20339158)  
> AlbusGellertAlways: [Ask GGAD](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19748884/chapters/46744210)  
> Vandrerska: [The Naked Truth - And How Best to Deal With It](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281372)

Chapter 42  
October 1900, continued

Albus’ hand hovered over the envelope.  
“Is it safe to open it now?”  
Gellert joined Albus at the desk, standing behind him. He held Albus and leaned around to kiss his cheek.  
“It should be. I found nothing on it, oddly. Löwenzahn and Hugo must have removed any – contamination.”

Hugo returned with a pop, standing near to Albus.  
“We had to copy it and destroy the original. House elves can counteract any charm or hex, but potions are not always possible. This one was contaminated with two – one that caused suggestibility, and another that we thought was meant to make you mildly ill, but why Emmerich might do that, I cannot fathom. So that you might become more irritable? Or vulnerable feeling? Löwenzahn was of the opinion that the purpose was masochistic only. I have to allow that he knows the man better than I do.”

Hugo had destroyed potentially valuable evidence?  
Gellert sighed and released Albus.  
“This is yours to handle, mein Schatz.”

Albus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened and closed his fist once, then again. He could only hope that that would be sufficient to keep his temper in check.  
He knelt so that he would not be towering over Hugo.

“Hugo, I appreciate that you and Löwenzahn wanted to protect us. But Gellert and I –“  
Albus stopped and looked at Gellert.  
“He is going to see it for himself anyway, Albus. It is not the sort of thing that we are going to be able to hide. We use it all the time.”  
Albus nodded. 

“Hugo, this is one of those things that I am going to need to order you never to talk about with anyone other than Gellert and myself…”  
“Confidentiality is already built into the contract, Albus,” Hugo said with a frown.  
'The contract.' Not 'our contract.' Hugo was upset. “I understand that, but – just in case there is ever any question, I want to be sure that you know to assume that no one knows but me and Gellert, and now you.”

Albus waited.

“I do _not_ , in fact, 'know' anything, as you have not yet told me.”  
“I was getting to that – I was looking for your acknowledgment –“  
“Yes, yes. 'No one knows.' It is a secret. A bigger secret than what you usually eat for breakfast, not that I would ever tell that to anyone, either.”

“I’m sorry Hugo. I am not meaning to sound as if I don’t trust you, I do. But I believe that you will understand why I am being so reticent when I tell you – together, Gellert and I hold the Elder Wand.”

Hugo looked from Albus to Gellert and back again.  
“And the Elder Wand is…?”  
Gellert threw up his hands and walked away.

Albus knew that wands were not important to elves, but how could Hugo never have heard of the Elder Wand? Was it because he had never served a magical family before? But surely he had _grown up_ in a magical household.  
Albus remembered that Hugo had read plenty of Muggle books… And how had that happened? He wondered why he hadn’t questioned it before.

“Albus. Please explain to this elf who has never heard of one of the most significant magical artefacts, and yet finds it necessary to constantly berate _our_ knowledge and intelligence, what it is that we have and why it is perhaps _almost_ as…”

Albus cut Gellert off.  
“The Elder Wand is… perhaps it is known mostly in Europe…”  
Albus thought it best to make an excuse for Hugo, some sort of concession, after Gellert’s sarcastic tirade.  
“It is believed to be the most powerful wand in existence. It has a long and bloody history, which we can get into later. Most relevant in this case is that it has many unique powers, and one of those is the ability to counteract potions.”

“Albus,” Hugo began in a placating tone. “No wand can –“  
“ _This Wand can_ , Hugo. We have done it before, with a poison and with Polyjuice, both.”  
“With Polyjuice?” He asked, clearly incredulous.  
“Yes, Polyjuice. And it facilitates long distance apparition –“  
“How far?” Hugo interrupted.  
“We haven’t tested it beyond 1600 miles yet.”  
Hugo’s eyes widened. 

“And it can remove diseases from the body and transfer them into other bodies, and many other things.”  
“You have done this – given someone a disease?” Hugo sounded incredulous.  
“Well, I didn’t conjure it out of thin air. I transferred it from – it doesn’t matter. What I am saying, Hugo, is that in the future, we would prefer for you to give us the contaminated letter, warning us of everything you’ve found on it, because so far we have encountered no spell or potion that this Wand cannot counteract or transform.”

Hugo huffed. Albus imagined he was unaccustomed to making mistakes. Albus could recognize that he would have reacted much the same way in Hugo’s position.

“So,” Albus said with a gentle smile. “Now we know that our contract does not prevent you from destroying our post.”  
“It does now,” Hugo pointed out, peevishly.  
Yes, that was probably true.

Gellert had been quiet for some time. Albus stood and walked over to where he was standing by the fireplace. He took Gellert’s hands in his own.  
“May I?” he asked quietly.  
Gellert lifted his hand to Albus’ mouth and Albus healed the wounds one by one, then did the same to the other hand. 

“We have been making a habit of this, Love. I would be very happy for us to have no need of this particular spell for the next six months.”  
Gellert kissed Albus’ forehead. “No promises.”  
No promises. Gellert had also made a habit of saying those two words. 

“Look at me, Angel?”  
Gellert met Albus’ eyes with his own.  
‘Would you like for Hugo to stay or go, Love? Do you need for us to do this alone? Or –‘  
‘No, he may stay, but I need for him not to – give his opinions. At least, not right away.’  
‘I understand.’ 

Albus kissed Gellert lightly on the lips.  
“I love you. Always.”  
Gellert nodded wearily.  
“Let’s see what we are facing.”

Back at the desk, Albus turned to Hugo. “Hugo, you may stay or go as you wish, but if you stay, you must not make any comments until you are invited to do so. Or until we ask you a direct question.”  
Hugo nodded and remained standing where he was. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

It was a simple letter, innocuous on the face of it – an invitation for Gellert to join the family to celebrate Yule – and from the way that Emmerich referred to Albus (Half-blooded bed-warmer?!), it was fairly clear that Gellert was expected to come alone.  
If anyone else were to read this letter, it would have seemed the work of a typically distant but concerned Pureblood father to his wayward son. The threats and insults were veiled. Zinnie was referred to as a ‘dutiful’ elf, much missed not least because she could have been relied upon to correct Gellert’s ostensibly selfish behaviour. 

Albus could imagine that, fighting a suggestibility potion, it would have been difficult to persuade Gellert that it would be a bad idea to go. He might even have asserted that it was an opportunity for him to get his father alone. 

Actually, he was making that assertion now.

“I never thought to be given the opportunity to cross the wards into the house without taking them down by force. Twelve days, Albus! There will be plenty of opportunities to take him unawares. I will take the Elder Wand with me…”  
“Yes, but you will not be able to take _me_ with you.”  
“Albus –“

“No, Gellert. Have you thought about why your father is contacting you _now_ , after more than a year of silence? Why he might especially want you to come for the solstice?”  
“Yule _is_ a family holiday, Albus. I know your Muggleborn mother might not have –“  
“Gellert Grindelwald! Of all people, do I need to tell _you_? This year, the Winter Solstice is coinciding with the dawn _in the Bavarian Alps_. Now, I do not know what your father might –“

“How do you –“  
“I am _perfectly capable_ of remembering these sorts of facts if only I know to look for them. You have told me often enough that my astronomical knowledge is nearly non-existent. Given how often you talk about the moon, it seemed that I might best contribute by collecting data about the sun. The next decade of solstices and –“

Gellert covered Albus’ mouth with his hand.  
Without turning away he said, “Hugo, you might want to be going now.”  
Albus heard the pop of Hugo’s disappearance. Gellert removed his hand from Albus’ mouth, grabbed him by his shoulders, and searched his face.  
“Gellert, why did you - ?”

“You know the exact time of every equinox and solstice for the next ten years?”  
Albus wouldn't say _exact_ \- knowing something to the minute was close enough - the rest was wand work in the moment. But he supposed that was all Gellert meant. Did Albus know the hour and the minute of these solar events in some standard location? Yes.  
“For the next twenty. Where in the world the sun will rise at that moment, for only the next ten. I’m still collecting eclipses –“

Gellert groaned and pushed Albus against the nearest wall.  
Albus had not anticipated such a reaction. That Gellert would be impressed, yes, but hard? And he was _very_ hard. It was difficult to miss, the way Gellert was grinding against him, pinning Albus’ hands to the wall and ravaging his mouth with his tongue. 

When Gellert broke the kiss to breathe, Albus couldn’t resist adding, “In 1904, the Winter Solstice is going to coincide with a full moon. That isn’t going to happen again unt– !”  
Gellert’s mouth was back on his immediately. Albus was dizzy with sensation. Gellert’s reaction had been so sudden, so unexpected, that the feeling of Gellert’s body against his was almost disorienting.

When Gellert next broke away, their clothes disappeared. Gellert met his eyes.  
“Unless you have any objections, I am going to fuck you right now, against this wall, until you are an inarticulate writhing mess, and then I am going to keep going.”  
Gellert looked wild. Albus stopped breathing for a moment.  
“Oh gods. Yes.”  
Gellert lifted Albus up and cast the stretching and lubrication charms only just in time to impale Albus on his cock. Albus shouted and Gellert moaned, and Albus used his last shred of reason to cast a cushioning charm on the wall before completely surrendering his body into Gellert’s possession. 

True to Gellert’s promise, Albus lost control so entirely that Gellert had to restrain him – otherwise he likely would have knocked them to the floor with enough force to cause one or both of them injury. When Gellert finally reversed the sticking charm and removed Albus from the wall, he was babbling something about how he felt like the sun, in a glowy sort of way, and Gellert tasted like the sun, and coming was a very good thing, and he was glad they did it so often, and he was thirsty, was Gellert thirsty too?  
Gellert smiled at Albus indulgently but didn’t say a word, until after he had dropped Albus onto the bed and tumbled in beside him. 

Albus propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Gellert.  
“Yes,” he declared.  
Gellert burst out laughing. “’Yes’ to what?”  
“’Yes’ to everything,” Albus replied. Then he laid his head on Gellert’s chest. “’Yes’ to everything,” he repeated. 

Albus lifted up his head to add, “Your next birthday is on the new moon again. _That one_ we are celebrating.”  
Then he lay back down and drifted off to the sound of Gellert’s heart beating.

After supper that evening, Gellert confessed, “I might have missed it. The coincidence of the dawn and the solstice at the estate.”  
_Estate._ It had become obvious that Gellert had grown up in a castle and had been avoiding saying so.

“You didn’t know?”  
If so, that would account for Gellert’s reaction. Albus was learning that few things made Gellert lose control so much as Albus’ magical knowledge. There was a direct line between Albus’ brain and Gellert’s cock, for some reason. 

“I have to look these things up every time. The moon – I have a spell for that – you’ve seen it. And it is very easy to keep track of – every night, there is evidence in the sky of the moon’s position. But the sun – I don’t hold it all in my head, Albus. I’ve been so focused on other things…” Gellert shook his head. “I might have missed it. Amateurish.”

It was no surprise to Albus that Gellert might move straight to self-deprecation.  
“You would have figured it out closer to time. Or, given that you are not now under the influence of a potion, you would have. And we would have found and neutralized that potion without the intervention of our elf-friends, so – while I have absolutely no complaints about my reward,” Albus said, grinning, “I will not allow that you are in any way _amateurish_ when it comes to astronomy. I may have all of these facts in my head, but you know how to use them.”

Albus was not simply trying to make Gellert feel better. He was keenly aware that the solar data he had amassed over the past two months was useless without a sense of _what it meant_.

“What do you suppose your father might do to you – or might use you for – if he were performing a ritual at dawn in just the right place?”  
Gellert sighed. “I was thinking about that while you were sleeping. So far, there are a couple of things I can think of. Some of the old rituals… I may no longer be his heir, legally and financially speaking, but I’m still his firstborn son, whatever my lack of a title might imply. I would say that this invitation is evidence that he does, in fact, know that I am his, and is looking to drain part of my life force in some way. Possibly my magic, but extending his life at the expense of mine seems more appropriate to that timing. If the Solstice were instead coinciding with the sunset, or with solar noon… Can you learn the equinox and solstice sunset locations as well? Because that combination opens up a completely different set of rituals. We could create a calendar…” 

Albus laughed. “Gellert. Yes, I will look into it. But I’m afraid I have to draw your attention back to the problem of your father. Are those the only two rituals that would make sense for the astronomical and geographical setting? Given your father’s likely – interests?”

“No. No, there are too many other possibilities. All we can say for certain is that it seems it was important to him for one reason or another for me to be there. But what damage he could do without me even being there – it is possible that the ritual itself is not the danger so much as what he is capable of afterwards. In which case being there to disrupt the ritual might be more important than avoiding it.”  
“So, we don’t have enough information to make a plan.”

“You are right, Liebling. We need more information.”  
Gellert took a deep breath.  
“Hugo?”  
Hugo appeared beside Gellert. 

“Would you –“  
“Hello.”  
“Yes, hello. Sorry, that was barbaric of me, to just start talking without greeting you.”  
Hugo crossed his arms impatiently.  
“And I apologize. It is good to see you. How are you doing this evening?”

Albus restrained a laugh. Hugo was still punishing Gellert for earlier, he was almost sure of it.

“I was doing almost well enough before some rude fellow made a request of me before I had so much as opened my mouth.”  
Albus intervened. “Strictly speaking, Gellert did not have time to actually make his request ‘before you opened your mouth.’”  
Then, in a tone that was as jocular as it was obsequious, he hastily appended, “And good evening, kind sir.”  
Hugo rolled his eyes and muttered, “Heathens.”

Gellert had looked almost intimidated just a minute before, but judging by his determined look, he had regained his confidence.  
“If you would, Hugo – I know I am not Albus, and therefore I have no ground on which to make binding requests –“

“We spoke of this, just this morning. You are the most dim-witted –“  
“I was being _polite_ , Hugo, but I can be blunt if you prefer. I suppose only Albus can contravene any orders I might give you, given the kind of bond he unwittingly formed between you and I?”  
“Ah! So you do understand after all. Yes, I am unfortunately bound to cater to whatever whim it is that –“

“Hugo, please desist. I think that you are actually going to enjoy this task. In any case, there is _no one_ who would do it so well as yourself –“  
Hugo eyed Gellert suspiciously.  
“ _I do mean that._ I am not just being polite, this time. I would like for you to call Didi – not here, just in your – elven space. I would like for you to get to know him. And I say, ‘would like to,’ intentionally – you may refuse, if you wish. I hope you will not, but you may.”

While Hugo regarded Gellert silently, Albus wondered what he had to consider. He was surprised that Hugo had not said ‘yes’ right away. Not without grumbling, that would be too much to ask, but to call a free elf and speak to him?

“What are you asking me to do, really? What are you hoping I will learn from Didi? What do you think I might persuade him to do? I will not tolerate coercing a vulnerable elf -”  
“No, Hugo. I am hoping that you will use your own judgment. You know better than either Albus or myself what Didi’s circumstances are, and how we might mutually assist one another.” 

Given Gellert’s own lectures on Albus’ utilitarian relationship to the Wizards and Witches in their orbit, Albus had no doubt that Gellert was being sincere. But if Hugo’s facial expression was at all indicative, it appeared Gellert had him badly confused. 

“So, you are saying that you _don’t_ want to meet Didi yourself.”  
“No, I am saying that it would waste too much time if you had to constantly field the interruptions of two impatient Wizards at the very start. I do not want to meet Didi until the two of you have come to some sort of provisional understanding about what Albus and I ought to know, and what you would recommend that we might do about my father specifically, and about the House of Grindelwald overall, not just for the benefit of the various humans my father might see fit to injure, but for the welfare of the elves as well. I may be liberated, but that does not absolve me of all responsibility, morally speaking.”

Hugo simply stared at Gellert for a moment.  
“And you are sure you haven’t read –“  
“Unless you were going to say ‘Aristotle,’ you may assume the answer is no.”

Hugo turned to Albus for confirmation.  
Albus lifted his hand and then dropped it again.  
“I have nothing to add. Gellert is right. You will do better without us in the beginning, most likely.”

“Very well. What else?”  
“What else?” Albus echoed incredulously.  
“What Gellert has asked of me will take very little time. Time moves differently in the elven space…”  
Naturally, it did. 

“Well, there isn’t much spying for you to do here, no Wizarding districts to speak of, and Gellert was suggesting that we not make any contacts here, so –“

Gellert spoke up.  
“He could help us find a cottage –“  
“Gellert, look –“

‘You still want to -'  
'Nothing's changed, has it?'  
Had it? Albus wondered.  
'No. No, you're right. Nothing's changed. But - I had thought that we were going to find the cottage ourselves?”  
‘I would not know where to begin. Would you?’  
‘Fine, no, I know nothing about finding properties, but this is a _personal decision_.’  
‘He wouldn’t _select_ it for us, Albus – of course, that’s up to us. But perhaps he could find places for us to consider.’

“Hugo might not even be interested – “ Albus tried, but Hugo immediately interrupted him.  
“I had hoped that you would ask. I already have some ideas.”

Albus sighed. Having an elf was proving to be exhausting in its own way. He was going to take over their lives, if they weren’t careful.  
“You may find, however, that there are not many trees on this island. If you are looking for a forest, it may be difficult. Islands, yes. Peat bogs, fields, river valleys… exposed windy hills…”

“Difficult?” Gellert asked. “Or impossible?”  
“I am saying difficult. I cannot say whether it is possible.”  
“Well,” Gellert answered with a smile. “That should keep you occupied for quite some time, then.”

Hugo said good evening before popping away again. 

Albus was already lost in thought. Time moved more slowly in Hugo’s ‘house elf space,’ his ‘space between the spaces…’  
How much more slowly? Did he have ten minutes for their every minute? An hour? More?  
Or was it inconsistent? Sometimes faster, and other times _much_ faster? How, then, would you measure a house elf’s true age? Hugo had been of age for twenty years _in Wizard time_. How many years had that been _for him?_  
Is this how he had managed to get so much reading done?

Albus had often wondered how house elves slept, having to be available at all times. This was a possible explanation. Still, surely they didn’t have several hours for each minute – wouldn’t they still be interrupted? Or did they sleep in short bursts, like a cat? Albus might have considered asking Hugo if he had been sure already of what sorts of inquiries would and would not offend the elf. 

Whatever house elves might do, Wizards did not generally sleep like cats. It had been a long and tiring day, and Albus was gratefully anticipating the eight likely uninterrupted hours of sleep ahead of him. As he got into bed, he was glad that there was no one he had any reason to wake for, other than Gellert – and that Gellert himself generally avoided waking him. 

Gellert, for his part, began kissing Albus lazily, as he did when he was trying to pretend to himself that he was not tired. He soon fell asleep, still on top of Albus. Albus had to push him off so that he could breathe. Gellert stirred for a moment, and slurred a questioning, ‘Albus?’ before settling on his side. It was a shame that Albus was not allowed to call him adorable, because he was _inarguably_ adorable, in these moments especially. Albus lay facing him, holding Gellert’s hand and gazing at his sleeping face until he drifted off himself.

In the morning, there was a stack of books on the bedside table. Albus did not recognize any of the names of the authors, besides Grotius (and that one only because Hugo had been so insistent that they needed to read his work.) He could only assume that the rest were also the works of Muggle philosophers.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD

‘Difficult’ had indeed proven to be ‘impossible.’ There simply were not trees in Ireland anymore. At least there was no stand of trees that was unoccupied and sufficiently large to hide a cottage.  
Hugo seemed to think that the reason Gellert wanted to be in the forest was because it was easier to live in such a place undetected, with a simple Muggle repelling charm. Albus, for his part, supposed that Gellert was wanting trees for cover when having sex outdoors. Either purpose would be served if they instead were to make a home on one of the many small uninhabited islands off the Atlantic coast. 

But Gellert found that suggestion to be unsatisfying.  
“I want you to be able to hunt, Kätzchen.”

Who was this man?  
“I thought that you didn’t like for me to hunt. That it was gratuitous killing, and so a danger to my self-control.”  
To his _soul_ , Gellert had said, but there was no reason to dredge that up.

“I have maybe changed my mind. Have you ever killed a deer? Or only rabbits? You’re big enough to take down a deer.”

He actually sounded excited. Albus was almost annoyed. What had been the purpose of Gellert’s pontificating if he was unable to resist that first image of Albus, orgasmic and bloody in the snow?  
On the other hand, if Gellert really was changing his mind, then that would be one less point of tension between the two of them. And it would free Albus to hunt more often.

“No, I haven’t had many chances to go hunting, to be honest. And never somewhere that deer were available. I thought about going when we were at Lord Svoboda’s lodge, but… all of those hunters, I couldn’t trust that they would only go out with the group. I would have been risking getting shot.  
“Gellert, are you wanting to see me take down a deer?”

“It’s only that I have been thinking –“ Gellert looked at Albus sharply, as if daring him to interrupt.  
“I love you. I was an arse before. Please continue.”

“I have been thinking that perhaps I was not constantly needing more and more stimulation because of some postulated ‘blood intoxication.’ What if instead, it was my father controlling me, continually increasing my desire to kill, so that I would learn not to trust myself?”  
Albus had been thinking this himself, ever since Gellert had told him about the potion his father had used on him.  
“What if the withdrawal I felt when I wasn’t killing was actually a symptom of me trying to resist the potion?”  
That, on the other hand, had _not_ occurred to Albus, but it was worth considering. Then again, there had been the difficulty that Gellert had experienced after killing the sheep. But they had been in possession of the Elder Wand at that point, and had not yet finished purifying it. And Albus couldn’t remember Gellert suffering at all after the hunting party at Lord Svoboda’s lodge. Gellert might be right to question this.

“I do believe that ritual killing is more pleasurable, and so more dangerous than other kinds of killing – the power of the creature’s life collecting in my own body, mingling with my magic before pouring out into the ritual space – this kind of killing is addictive, probably. It is important to avoid it, to engage in it only if truly necessary. But other kinds of killing - perhaps you are right, and it is not a problem in a limited way? If it can be justified?”

Albus could not resist poking fun at Gellert.  
“Ah. So really what you are saying is that the idea of watching me hunt is exciting for you, and the sex that we would have afterwards constitutes justification.”  
“Well –“  
“That you want to watch my lynx kill something, and then just after I have transformed back, you want me to smear you with blood and fuck you senseless under the trees.”

“Gods! I hadn’t even considered the blood.”  
Albus laughed. “Yes, you had.”  
Gellert grinned. “Yes, I had.”

“I still like the idea of living in Ireland, Gellert. No one will think to look for us here, and it will be easy for us to go undetected – both by the non-existent magical government and the unusually tolerant Muggles. If we choose the property carefully, we could never be closer than 30 miles away from the nearest Wizard, easily. You can’t say two of those things, much less all three, anywhere else in Europe.”

“We are not in Europe, Liebling.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. It was not worth arguing over this typical Continental bias, but he was not going to completely hide what he thought of it, either.

“My point is, what we need in a location is safety and privacy. With the Elder Wand, we can live here and then apparate to – anywhere in Europe really – for anything else we need. Including hunting. We can wake up in our own bed, in our own home, and that same day be in Romania or Sweden or wherever else. And I can strip for you under the trees, and before you can touch me, I can transform and stalk away, following the scent of my prey. You can fly above and watch as I leap on an animal larger than I am and wrestle it to the ground and drain the life out of it. And when I transform back, covered in blood, every sense still heightened, still feral and incapable of being reached by reason, you can tackle me to the ground, and we can fuck like the animals we are, aware of nothing but our bodies and our need and the smell of earth and blood.”

Albus picked up and opened the book he had been reading before Gellert had interrupted him, choosing to ignore the astonished expression on his husband’s face. Then he looked up just long enough to add, “So I think that we should continue to consider living in Ireland.” 

He looked back down at his book and tried to focus his eyes on the words. It was a doomed endeavor - there was no way to read, blinded by arousal – he had intended only to tease Gellert, but he could only _appear_ to be unaffected himself at this point.

Gellert growled and hauled Albus up out of the chair.  
“You, Liebhaber…” he began, but Albus held him off. He transformed into a lynx, and turned and leapt onto the desk, to give him enough distance to spring at Gellert, knock him over, and pin him to the floor. Albus changed back, his hands holding down Gellert’s shoulders.

“Not yet. In less than ten minutes, Hugo is going to be taking us to see a cottage, and I want to be ready. You are going to have to wait.”  
Gellert pulled Albus down for a searing kiss. He rolled them over, pressed his clothed cock against Albus’, and sucked on his neck just below his ear.  
Then he pushed himself up to standing, leaving Albus lying dazed on the floor. 

“Of course, you are right, Albus. This is not the right time.”  
Albus continued to lie on the floor as he watched Gellert walk to the wardrobe and remove his shirt slowly, changing it for another. If he had not acted on impulse, taking advantage of an unexpected opening, Albus might have accounted for the likelihood of Gellert taking revenge.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

No gardening would be required on the island. Nothing grew tall enough to require trimming, and planting on the rocky terrain would be difficult. Near impossible without magic. Hugo was nonetheless determined to grow vegetables, so gardening would in fact be happening regardless. He tried to persuade Albus and Gellert that they should keep animals as well, but Albus vetoed chickens, and Gellert vetoed sheep, and they both were firmly opposed to goats, so Hugo stopped complaining about it, for the most part. 

The island was small for an island, but more than big enough for two people and an elf. (Too big, as far as Hugo was concerned, if they were not going to keep sheep.) They didn’t need to build, as there were already three abandoned cottages on the island. They let one alone and repaired and altered the other two – one to live in, and one to serve as a potions laboratory. They were grateful to have the Elder Wand – neither of them knew the sorts of spells required for construction, so the work could not have been accomplished without this Wand that operated on the basis of intent alone. 

Still, Albus worried that the Wand might soon become bored. He remembered what had happened to Gregorovitch – he had used the Wand in such a limited way, and so held it only for a short time.  
When he brought his concern to Gellert, he answered, “Perhaps we should have _made_ an island, instead of buying this one. Just raised one up, straight out of the ocean. That would have been an interesting job.”

“Be serious, Gellert. These renovation spells were very useful, but not difficult. We could have done the work just as well with another wand with a little research and practice. And we didn’t use the Wand the entire time we were in America. You don’t feel it? How impatient it has become with us?”

Gellert looked out over the ocean.  
“You are right. The weather here is terrible.”

Albus felt frustrated. He had not been talking about the weather at all. And it wasn’t that Gellert had not been listening.  
He took a breath. Gellert had been listening. He waited.

“The wind – no trees can grow here to form a windbreak, and the island is so small that the wind doesn’t slow at all before it gets to the cottage. Warming charms we can cast on ourselves. Impervious charms. But the wind – we need a spell that will divert the wind around the island, something that is permanent, or at least something that does not need to be recast more than once every few months.”

Albus was silent. This _was_ a challenge. They had never used the wand to alter an area larger than 1000 square feet, perhaps less. The island covered more than two square _miles_ – and the wind pattern would be more natural (and the shield take less energy to maintain) if they started diverting the wind some small distance out from the island, so that the leading edge could be tapered… wait, no, the wind direction would change – it wouldn’t always be coming from the same direction, not exactly. Would the shape of the shield shift, to accommodate changes in wind speed and direction? How would this affect the rest of the island’s weather? How high would it extend? Would it have a roof? Or be open to the sky? How permeable would the shield be? Would it let in a small amount of wind, to simulate a breeze? Or would the air be perfectly still? How would this affect the flight patterns of the sea birds? There was a lot to think about. 

He refused to be the first to say that it was too difficult.  
“This is not like the Lumos – our intentions could not possibly be so perfectly synchronized for us to wield the Wand together. Are you saying that one of us alone could do this thing? Even with the Wand?”

Gellert sat silently, watching the waves breaking against the shore. Albus wondered if this sort of restful watching had become habitual for him. It was not – or at least Albus thought it was not – that Gellert needed a break from his visions. He had seemed to be having considerably less of them since they had come. He had said that he had more visions when they were in a new city, with so many new stimuli, new people. The travel had taken a toll on him more even than it had on Albus. He was glad for perhaps the hundredth time in less than a week that they had found this place.

Unlike Gellert, Albus could not last more than five minutes watching the ocean. 

“The goat,” he said.  
“Which goat?”  
Albus was fairly certain that Gellert knew which goat.  
“Constantinople. When I was sacrificing the goat, you used the Wand to change the way I used my magic – amplifying some parts, and minimizing others – focusing me. That was – that was a kind of dual casting, right?”

“It is not really what is meant by dual casting, usually, but –“  
“But we were working together to do one magical act.”  
“Ok, yes. And this is what you think we need to do to divert the wind around the island? But I was just – you are misremembering. I was altering your emotions, really, Albus. Not your magic.”

“No, but remember when we were figuring out how to –“  
Gellert’s eyes grew wide.  
“I have not made you come in that way for too long, Liebling. How have I let it go so long?!”

Albus looked away from Gellert and back out to the ocean. He tried to think calming thoughts. He did not want to get distracted – yet.  
“Let’s – we can take care of that later. Right now – what I’m trying to say is that you _surrounded_ me with your magic, correct? Your magic poured out of you and _onto_ me. What if instead we used the Wand to direct our magic _into_ the other person. For instance, I would use the Wand to locate the conjunction of all of my threads, and direct them to join your threads, and then you could cast something more powerful than you could on your own. And because I would be using the Wand to direct them, it would amplify my magic. And perhaps it would amplify yours as well, so that even with you casting wandlessly, you would be twice as powerful as you would be with the Wand. You might even be able to cast by intent alone, as if you were holding the Wand yourself. Maybe it isn’t dual casting properly speaking, and I’m not saying that we never need to do a ritual for that, but – “

“It is worth trying. But the weather magic, we should do more calculations. It will be complicated.”  
“Yes, I agree. And we should practice with smaller spells. It might still be too complicated and take too much power to make the barrier, even doing it that way.”

Gellert stood up and with a wave of the wand dusted off himself and Albus. “Good. Let’s practice.”  
“Now?”  
“Why not?”  
“Because we don’t know what we want to do.”

Gellert turned to face the third, unimproved cottage.  
“ _I know_ what I want for us to do.”  
“Gellert?”  
“It’s a surprise, Albus. I’m not going to tell you. Just – wait here a moment.”

Gellert walked a small distance away. Albus saw Hugo appear, then disappear, then appear again, then disappear again.  
“The tide is rising,” Gellert said, as if this explained anything. “Still low, but rising. It may rise… as much as five more feet from where it is now. Probably not quite so much.”

Albus looked at Gellert, waiting for more information, but all the more Gellert would tell him was –  
“First I am going to be facing the cottage, then I am going to turn slowly counterclockwise until I am facing the sea.”  
“The sea,” Albus echoed dully.  
“Oh, yes. That’s not really giving you very much information, is it?” Gellert said, laughing. “There is sea everywhere! Due east, I am thinking.”  
He pointed, as if Albus had not already learned which way was east on the island. 

“We should stand near the edge, so we can see the water easily. But not so near that we fall in.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. “Good idea. Let’s not fall off of a cliff when all of our magic is engaged in something complicated.”  
Gellert laughed. He had his hair pulled back because of the wind, and over his clothing he was wearing an old fashioned cape that was billowing dramatically. Albus almost asked if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to leave the island as windy as it was, so that he could stand on the cliff looking romantic. 

Instead, Albus said, “I think it is better if I stand in one spot. Where do you want me?”  
Gellert grabbed Albus' arse and drew him close. "Everywhere."  
They stood there kissing and touching one another for some time, and Albus could have kept going if Gellert had not remembered that they had been doing something else. So Gellert showed Albus where to stand, and Albus waited again, hoping that Gellert would tell him more, and knowing that he wouldn’t.

“Ready?” he asked Gellert finally.  
“Ready. I think. Am I going to feel it?”  
“I have no idea." 

In retrospect, Albus would consider that this ought to have given him pause. That any time he said 'I have no idea' in response to a question about magic they were _about to perform_ they should take a moment to first find an answer. 

Albus lifted the Wand and pointed it at Gellert. "I’ll let you know when I feel like I can see it happening.”  
But it proved to be too much for him to speak. His part of the spell took all of his focus and energy - he had nothing left in him to pay attention to his surroundings, or to anything Gellert was doing. He did not even see Gellert at all, apart from his magic, and Albus' magic joining it. Albus' existence had been narrowed to the threads.

Therefore, it was only later, when Gellert excitedly told the story of all that he had felt and seen and done, that Albus understood the magnitude of what Gellert had attempted – and accomplished. What they had accomplished together.  
Gellert had disassembled the cottage and separated the rocks from the remaining debris. Then he had spun up half of the rocks into a solid stone disk, 15 feet across and two feet thick, and floated it to the edge of the cliff and rested it there while drawing up pilings from the ocean floor. He had traced channels in the surface of the stone – concentric circles and diameter lines to align with the eight directions. Then he had floated the stone so that it rested perfectly on the pilings, and he bound it there, fused it to the pilings. 

It was Hugo who reported what had happened next: his task completed, Gellert had promptly collapsed on the ground, unconscious, and Albus had followed him immediately after. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus woke.

He had never seen his own magic before – each thread – without meditating. The Wand. What wasn’t it capable of?  
Albus had gathered every thread – he had never done that before, either – and concentrated them, funnelled them all into the Wand, through which they had reached into Gellert, a cable of light tethering the two of them together. He had seen each of his threads wrap around Gellert’s threads - reinforce them, amplify them. It had taken a great deal of focus to direct each thread to the place where it would be of the most use, where it would best complement Gellert’s own magic. A great deal of energy to maintain the connection, over the protests of his own magic, unused to being exercised all at once in this way. He remembered wondering how it must feel for Gellert, being full of so much power.

But what had happened next? He didn’t know.  
That did not seem right.

He rolled over and opened his eyes. It was dark, save for a single candle. That did not seem right, either. He could not remember, it was dark, and he was alone.

“Gellert?”  
“Here, Albus,” came a voice from a corner of the room. Albus turned back in the direction he had been facing before. There he was.  
“How long have I been asleep?”  
Gellert looked sheepish. “Two and a half days. I woke up yesterday.”  
“Two and a half… And two for you? One? Gellert…”

Albus felt unsure what to ask next. There had been no dreams. It felt as if no time had passed at all. It was uncanny.

“Come here and tell me what happened.”  
“Are you - ?”  
“I’m awake now, aren’t I? Speaking? How bad could it be? Come kiss me hello and get into bed.”  
Gellert stood up, looking somehow guilty and excited at the same time. He had one leg on the bed and one foot still on the floor when Hugo came in from the kitchen, fussing.  
“This one nearly killed you,” Hugo said, swatting Gellert with a spoon. “And you are _not_ well –“

“Don’t hit Gellert,” Albus said wearily. “Generally. Never. That’s not just for this time.”  
“I understood you from the start, Albus. I imagine you know that I disagree, but I will not be leaving you over it.”  
“Thank you. Can you –“  
“Before you ask, you must take these replenishing potions.”  
Albus smiled weakly, first at Gellert, who was now standing with both feet on the floor, and then at Hugo who was scowling. He took his potions.  
“Thank you, Hugo. Now Gellert and I – can you go back to the kitchen, please? Or somewhere?”  
Hugo left the room grumbling, “Thank you for saving my life, Hugo. I’m terribly grateful…”

Gellert continued simply standing by the bed, looking uncertain, so Albus gestured for him to join him. Gellert knelt on the mattress beside Albus, not meeting his eyes.  
“He’s right, Albus. It was my fault. And if Hugo had not been there to apparate us back into the house…”  
“Whether it was your fault or not, I still need you in bed with me. Now kiss me, and then lay on my chest, so you can hear that my heart is still beating and I can play with your hair.”  
Gellert smiled and did as Albus asked. 

Once he had settled in, Albus repeated his request.  
“Tell me what happened, Love. Why were we sleeping so long? Why did we need Hugo’s help?”  
“The spell took more energy than I had expected. Our magic needed to rebuild. We spent too much – that is, _I spent_ almost all of our magic. But I didn’t know that it was possible! We have so much of it…”

“Yes, who would have guessed our magic was a finite resource?” Albus asked with gentle amusement.  
“Well, of course, but we hadn’t tested the limits yet, and…”  
“And now we have.” Albus sighed. Gellert might be right to feel responsible.

“Gellert, did you notice it happening? The drain on your magic?”  
“No, I was distracted by – well, maybe yes. I was becoming more tired, and my body wanted to stop, but I was _so close_.”  
_That_ , at least, made sense to Albus – that Gellert would disregard anything standing in the way of what he intended once he had already started. And to be fair, Albus had ignored the protests of his own body, as well.

“Hold me?” Albus asked.  
Gellert lifted himself up, and Albus rolled away from him, so that Gellert could curl up behind him. Gellert wrapped his arm around Albus and took his hand.  
“Tell me what we have done,” Albus asked. “What was this too difficult spell?”

Usually, Albus would be full of questions, but Gellert had just barely finished giving Albus the bare facts of the platform’s construction when Albus drifted back into sleep.

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Albus woke to the smell of warm apple turnovers. He snuggled back against Gellert, and smiled at the feel of Gellert’s erection against his arse, even as Gellert was still sleeping. It was all so familiar. He felt no different than he had on two hundred or more mornings before this one – awake, safe, grateful, loved – and ready to get out of bed and start the day.

But then he remembered what they had been talking about before he went to sleep. Gellert’s ambitious spell. And he remembered what they had _not_ spoken of – their equally ambitious experiment – combining their magic in a way that they had neither tried before, nor ever heard of. 

A year and a half ago, Albus had thought of magic as a tool, something to be manipulated, something that could be mastered with study. He had known that there was still more to discover, but he had imagined that there was _nothing_ that might _not be_ discovered.  
Since meeting Gellert, he had learned that magic was a wild and a living thing – it did not wish to give up every mystery – it fought back. And if he and Gellert kept recklessly pushing their limits, then one day it would kill them.  
For the first time, Albus began to seriously consider obtaining the other two Hallows. Perhaps mastering all three would offer some protection against miscalculations like these. 

‘Miscalculation.’ It was easy to miscalculate when one only spent a minute and a half considering what needed doing.

They took a walk after breakfast. Albus wanted to see the platform, and Gellert did, too. He had not left the house since waking up, not wanting to leave Albus for a moment. They came to the cliffside, and Gellert put his arm around Albus’ shoulder, drawing him close.

The tide was ebbing, the pilings just visible. It was an impressive piece of work.  
“It’s beautiful, Gellert.”  
Gellert hummed.  
It was beautiful, and it had nearly cost them everything. 

“But it seems that we have established that we cannot build your barrier this way. It would be still more difficult than your stone platform.”  
“No, you are right, Schatz. We need to acquire true dual casting ability after all.”  
“So – another year, nearly.”  
“No, perhaps three weeks. That will be a full moon, and I think that the moonlight on the water will make a difference.”

“Three weeks?”  
“It will be enough if we start studying today. But if we need more time, we will just wait another moon cycle. We shall see. I’m going to need your help, Albus. After my last spell, I am not doing anything without the approval of my more cautious husband.”  
Albus laughed. “I am not much more cautious than you are, I’m afraid.”  
Gellert sighed. “No. You are right. We are doomed. There is no use in planning then, it seems.”

Albus took Gellert into his arms and kissed him.  
“I love you.”  
“Oh?”  
“Mmmhmm. Even more than… “

Albus suddenly realized – the moonlight on the water, Gellert had said…  
“… more than magic…” he finished absently, still thinking about the moonlight on the water… surrounding the platform.  
“Gellert?”

“More than magic?” Gellert asked.  
Albus kissed Gellert’s nose. “Yes, more than magic. Now - tell me about the platform.”  
Gellert looked stunned.

“This platform, Gellert. You mean for us to perform the ritual there? Above the ocean?”  
“More than magic…” Gellert murmured. 

“ _Yes_ , Raven. More than _anything_. All of this, I would give it up for you.”  
Then Albus laughed, “Not that you would ask me to. Not that it will ever come to it. But if it did, yes. More than magic. But since I am not giving up magic just yet, perhaps you will tell me about the dual casting ritual?”

Gellert’s focus finally returned.  
“Yes, the platform… Not above, but _in_ the ocean. When the tide is high it is just inches below the surface of the platform. But spring tides… Spring tides happen every full and new moon. They are the highest tides, and when it is a spring tide, the water will cover the surface of the platform. Not high enough to be dangerous - maybe an inch or two. Just enough for us to connect with the ocean, the living water, luminous with moonlight…”

Albus wanted to admire the beautiful image of the moon reflected in the thin layer of water washing over the platform, the channels in the stone visible beneath the glimmering tide. But there were too many practical questions distracting him from surrendering to Gellert’s enthusiasm just yet.

“We only just decided to live on an island ten – well, thirteen, I guess, now – thirteen days ago. What use could you have had for learning about the tides?”  
“Oh, I asked Hugo to research it for me. He has extra time, it seems, and he likes reading, and I thought –“  
That did not answer the question. When had Gellert asked Hugo about the tides? The moment they had chosen the island? How had he known that they would need to know the information? Has he known from the beginning that he would be constructing… 

“You’ve seen this. You saw something about the platform. You were able to do it on the spot because you knew exactly what you were making.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes. “At last, you are getting better at this. You only managed to be convinced that I had been recklessly spontaneous for less than a day this time. I’m not sure whether to congratulate you or me for this development.”  
“Hush, Gellert. Honestly. If you had told me, then there would have been no need…”

“I didn’t think I was keeping anything important from you. I saw it when we were on the boat, just a glimpse of a moment – no time reference, no sense of place. It was only when we came to see the island and I recognized the cliff that I knew it was in the near enough future to be certain to come to pass."

Yes, but that had been nearly two weeks ago.  
"And in any case, I almost never -"   
“So, you saw us, and you saw the platform right where it is now… and what you were describing with the moonlight on the water – you saw that too?”  
“I did, and –“  
“Did you see the dual casting ritual, you think?”  
“I’m not sure. But it’s a permanent platform. We will use it more than once.”

“And you don’t think that we need to wait until our anniversary? That ritual that you had developed already –“  
“No, you were right about that - it was too dangerous. It didn’t connect us closely enough, it was dangerous, unstable. We need a better anchor.”  
A better anchor. 

“What are we sacrificing this time?”  
“Anchor, Albus, not amplifier. A sacrifice cannot be used as an anchor. No, a place may be an anchor, an object... our bodies."  
Their - bodies? Like with Alttayir?  
No. Not like Alttayir.

“Gellert, you saw us, in the moonlit water –“  
“Yes, gods. You were gorgeous. So focused, so - ”  
Albus had thought that it was just a rumour, wishful thinking on the part of his horny dormmates – but it was real.  
Sex magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex magic!  
> I do not now remember which reader requested this - I do not even know if they are still reading this fic - it was a long time ago. But the idea has stayed with me - together with the questions of whether sex magic exists in this AU or not, and whether they would use it, and when... It seems the answers are yes, very likely, and maybe very soon now.
> 
> <><><>
> 
> If folks want, I can post the actual letter - both in English and in German - as the 'next chapter.' Doing so would not affect the update schedule.
> 
> Historical note:  
> 1900 perhaps marked Ireland’s year of least trees, for many reasons that I am not subjecting you to an essay on, for once, LOL  
> Trees covered 1% or less of the surface of the island in 1900. The trees in the forest parks you might see today, if you live in or visit Ireland? Almost entirely intentionally planted (if trees were animals, we might say ‘re-introduced’) in the 20th century.


	46. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve embedded letters in the text before, but when I was writing the previous chapter, it felt like it would break the narrative flow, so I dropped it early on. But it seemed folks were interested in the text of the letter from Gellert’s father, and I was eager to share it - together with Albus’ running commentary. So here it is as a sidebar of sorts - a chapter concurrent with the chapter that precedes it - similar to ‘Art Lessons’ in this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself for my longest beginning note ever:
> 
> Ok. I know that I said that this would not impact the timing of Chapter 43…  
> But you see, I have several excellent excuses, LOL  
> Well, three passable excuses, anyway:
> 
> 1/ Emmerich has really taken over the plot, and so while that doesn’t change the timing of most of the other plot elements very much, it does change the next chapter, and results in _a lot_ of new chapters in order to handle him, which even changes the arc of this installment, giving me a much more clear-cut climax and ending than I had counted on. Now that I have found the natural end of Part One, I am determined to stick my landing.  
> (You may have noticed that, as a result of this epiphany, the chapter total for Part One has dropped by more than a dozen – don’t worry – you are still getting all of those ‘dropped’ chapters – but in Part Two. Part One is simply coming to a end some months sooner, in Albus and Gellert's world, than I had thought.) 
> 
> 2/Which means that I had to do a close reread of the entire fic to make sure that I have not broken anything - to make sure that the pieces all fit, and I haven't created any major continuity issues. (Which would be a shame, because now that I have done it, I see that there was no other possible way to write Emmerich.) There were a few minor issues, so I have made corrections for that here and there. (Among the scenes that _did not_ require alteration - the first appearance of Phineas in the chapter _Platform 9 ¾_ \- which is referenced in this chapter.)  
> I managed to keep myself from waiting to post until after I'd read all of the replies to all of your comments to make sure that I don't have any continuity issues there either, LOLOL - I am likely to get to that soon, but I didn't want to wait any longer to post this chapter that was already ready 3 days ago.
> 
> 3/This chapter – when I asked for input from y'all, I was thinking that it would just be the letter (in both English and German), but when Falling_In_Flames mentioned that it would be great to have Albus’ insights… I immediately thought – “YES! Of course! I have so many of his thoughts in my head already – it would make this installment so much better if I included those and make it a proper chapter, rather than just treat this as some sort of dry appendix.”  
> And… something like 4500 words later, LOL – here we are.
> 
> For some reason, actually having the letter _in German_ was important to me from the very beginning, so I enlisted the help of the wonderful Sixta to create the ‘original’ German letter – written in the style of the haughty and appearance-conscious Lord Grindelwald. Along the way, as the chapter expanded into – well, a chapter - she ended up beta-ing for me as well – thank you, Sixta!
> 
> The German version of the letter is the version that includes Albus’ thoughts, as the letter is read aloud as written (which is to say, in the language in which it was written.)  
> But I put this German language letter + English language commentary below the English language ‘translation’ of the letter.  
> This is for anyone who, like me, does not really read German – so you can go into the section below it with the English ‘translation’ already in your head.
> 
> [The letter in German is the original _in the context of the story_ … but naturally, as I do not speak German, the letter in English is the original, compositionally speaking. Or at least it _was_ before Sixta and I started passing the letters back and forth and making alterations until we were happy with the results in both languages, LOL  
> So, in the note above, while I decided to use the words ‘translation’ and ‘original’ in the context of the story, in the context of how it was actually written those designations would be reversed – hence the scare quotes.]

Chapter 42½  
October 1900

My Dear Son, 

I would like for you to come home for Yule this year. 

I would never have imagined that it would be necessary for me to bid my own son to return home for Yule. It is our tradition that any Wizard is welcome in his parents’ house during the Yule festival – and further, that unmarried sons are obligated to attend the family Solstice rites. 

You have made your disdain for me clear for many years, and you might even imagine yourself justified in disowning your family on my account. But it was unlike you to disregard the feelings of your mother – and especially those of your brother – in that way. We are all indebted to Lord Wurdiztal for his discretion: if it had become known that you had celebrated Yule as a Wurdiztal and not as a Grindelwald, it would have been a humiliation.

Perhaps you misunderstood my words to you when you left our home for Britain. I never intended for you to believe that you were no longer welcome in our home. You may have forgotten the crucial difference between being disowned and merely freed from one’s duties as heir. Do not think that I am unaware of the way in which you have been taking advantage of this gift that I have given you. Remember that I was merciful to you and do me the courtesy of not flaunting your degeneracy. However well that Halfblood warms your bed, he is not family; you owe him nothing. 

I will expect you before the sun sets on the eve of the Solstice. I cannot believe that it is necessary for me to tell you this. It is a shame that you no longer own Zinnie. She was a fine elf, dutiful. She would not have allowed you to forget your family. If she were still with you, I would not have had to write this letter at all. 

If none of these arguments are sufficient to persuade you, think of how your younger brother will suffer in your absence. 

Your Father,  
Emmerich von Grindelwald, etc

<><<>><>

_Mein Lieber Sohn,_

Albus scoffed.  
“Lieber.“

Gellert held up his finger at Albus without even looking at him.  
Albus tried to remember if Gellert had ever cut him off like that before, without a word. He was being lumped in with Hugo? 

Perhaps he needed to treat this like one of Gellert’s visions. Likely, Gellert needed to receive no input from _anyone_ , because simply reading the letter was difficult enough, without having to manage Albus’ thoughts and emotions as well. 

‘Don’t think, feel.’ Immediately, Albus noticed Gellert’s magical energy pushing out from him in all directions, forming a protective barrier. It was a manifestation of his desire only – it didn’t carry any real force. Nevertheless, the message seemed clear: ‘Don’t touch me.’  
Respecting that would be difficult – his first instinct was to reach out, to enfold Gellert completely. Albus laced his fingers together and rubbed his palm with his thumb, to keep his hands occupied - to will himself into compactness, separateness.

_Ich möchte, dass Du dieses Weihnachten nach Hause kommst._

Albus had known that there was nothing that Emmerich could write that he would welcome hearing - but ‘Ich _möchte_?‘  
It didn’t matter what Emmerich _wanted_ , after all that he had done to Gellert. He had no right to make any further demands of him. Gellert would do better to celebrate Yule in _Azkaban_ than with his father. Lord Grindelwald sounded just as skilled as a Dementor in removing every happy thought, and at least there was no one at Azkaban actively trying to kill either of them.

_Es wäre mir nie in den Sinn gekommen, dass es einmal nötig sein würde, meinen eigenen Sohn zu bitten, an Weihnachten nach Hause zu kommen._

Albus rolled his eyes. Oh, yes. Why might Gellert not simply show up to his father’s house unasked? Especially when Emmerich had made it so very clear how much Gellert was missed? Was he actually meaning to sound like a concerned father? Like a father whose delicate feelings had been injured? ‘It never would have occurred’ to Albus to believe such balls.

_Es ist Tradition, dass jeder Zauberer während des Weihnachtsfestes im Haus seiner Eltern willkommen ist – und insbesondere, dass unverheiratete Söhne verpflichtet sind, den familiären Bräuchen zur Sonnenwende beizuwohnen._

Albus registered the words, but he was too preoccupied with the sound of Gellert’s voice to care about the meaning. He looked over at Hugo, who nodded and popped out of sight.

It was likely that anyone else would say that it was a good sign that Gellert’s voice, which had started off flat and empty, had so quickly become lightly sarcastic, as if his father’s words were endearingly humorous. But this tone was far more concerning to Albus than anger or sadness or even a weary emotionlessness would have been. Gellert was burying these fresh wounds so deeply that they might never be found.

‘That’s what occlusion is for,’ Gellert had once told him. Albus admired Gellert’s proficient occlusion when they were out in the world, but in this moment, listening to Gellert’s voice as he read the letter, Albus realized where and why Gellert had learned how to occlude so well.  
He had been neglecting to recall this other use to which Gellert put his ability - rapidly hiding away unsafe emotions _in places that should have been safe._

He had honoured the unspoken request for distance long enough. Gellert didn’t need space – he needed an anchor to reality. Right now, Emmerich had the upper hand – whether Gellert was accepting or rejecting his father’s words, they had become the centre of Gellert’s reality. Albus was not surrendering that ground to someone so undeserving.

He stepped in front of Gellert, facing him, and stroked the hand that was holding the letter until Gellert’s hold on the parchment released enough for Albus to take it. 

“Albus – “  
“No, Love. It’s my turn to read. Come sit with me?”  
Gellert closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.  
“Not in bed. He’s not coming into bed with us.”

“Agreed. Not in bed. Join me on the sofa?”  
As soon as the words were out of Albus’ mouth, the front edge of the sofa began pushing forward. It seemed that Gellert was not opposed to _a_ bed, as long as it was not _their_ bed. Albus laughed in spite of himself.  
“Well, I _had_ envisioned _sitting_ on the sofa, with you lying down with your head in my lap, but I suppose not.”

Gellert didn’t answer, but lay down on his side, his back pressed tightly against the back of the sofa. Albus looked down at him. He looked – impatient. Good. Impatient seemed true. Albus lay down with his back to Gellert’s chest. Gellert wrapped his arm around Albus, and Albus began reading.

_Du hast Deine Verachtung für mich über viele Jahre hinweg deutlich gemacht und möglicherweise hältst Du es sogar für gerechtfertigt, Deine Familie meinetwegen zu verleugnen._

Albus interrupted himself.  
“Can I say something? Or do you still need for me not to comment?”  
“I just want to finish quickly.”

That was understandable. Nevertheless, Albus wondered if that was the main reason Gellert wanted him not to interrupt the reading.

“Ok. But I can’t go without saying - he’s a liar, Gellert. You know that. _You_ didn’t disown _him_. This is not – that’s not what happened.”  
“Albus –“  
“Yes, fine.” He paused, then added, “I love you.”  
“I know,” Gellert said with a sigh. “Keep reading, please?”

_Dennoch war es nie Deine Art, die Gefühle Deiner Mutter und vor allem auch die Deines Bruders auf diese Weise zu missachten. Wir alle sind Lord Wurdiztal für seine Diskretion zu Dank verpflichtet: Wenn bekannt geworden wäre, dass Du das Weihnachtsfest einst als Wurdiztal und nicht als Grindelwald feiertest, so wäre das eine Demütigung gewesen._

How did celebrating _with_ the Wurdiztals constitute celebrating _as_ a Wurdiztal? How did that equate to disowning his family? But Emmerich insisted that Gellert not coming home last Yule had been a _humiliation_. (And if so, wasn’t that Emmerich’s own fault?) _‘Demütigung’_ seemed too strong of a word to Albus. It seemed like the word of a man who was afraid that the fractures in his family might be discovered that easily.

_Vielleicht hast Du meine Worte an Dich missverstanden als Du unser Haus in Richtung Großbritannien verließest. Es war nie meine Intension, Dich in dem Glauben zu lassen, dass Du nicht länger in unserem Hause willkommen bist._

Albus had not thought it was possible to be angrier at Gellert’s father than he already was, but this – even counting conservatively, this was the third time that Gellert’s father had suggested that any separation between Gellert and his family was either in his imagination, or of his own making. To blame Gellert, to say that he had _misunderstood_ – that he had _not_ been told never to come back, that he had _not_ been told that he was no longer part of the family… it was denying Gellert’s grip on reality as surely as that mind-controlling potion had done.

It took effort not to say so out loud. Instead, Albus reached out with his magic to simulate brushing his fingertips against Gellert’s face, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Then he took Gellert’s hand and held it to his lips for as long as he dared pause the reading. He put Gellert’s hand back where it had been, and Gellert pulled Albus more tightly against him. 

_Selbst wenn Du es vergessen haben solltest, es gibt einen entscheidenden Unterschied zwischen enterbt und lediglich von seinen Pflichten als Erben befreit zu werden. Denke nicht, dass mir nicht bewusst ist, auf welche Art Du dieses Geschenk, das ich Dir gab, für Deine Zwecke missbraucht hast. Erinnere Dich, dass ich gnädig mit Dir war und erweise mir die Höflichkeit, Deine Entartung nicht öffentlich zur Schau zu stellen. Wie gut auch immer –_

Albus paused.  
“Albus?”

_Wie gut auch immer dieses Halbblut Dein Bett wärmt, er gehört nicht zur Familie; Du schuldest ihm nichts._

“Albus, no – Liebling -“  
So, this was what it felt to be on the receiving end of that man’s whip.

“Albus, turn around. Look at me, Schatz.”  
Albus took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to take it personally. Emmerich meant for them to take it personally, and he refused to give him that power. _Not_ taking it personally…

“Albus Dumbledore! You come back to me, right now!”  
Gellert was asking too much for Albus to pull himself together so quickly. He thought he understood now why Gellert hadn’t been letting him talk.  
“Just – give me a minute, Gellert.”

Albus took another deep breath. Just because he wasn’t letting himself be reduced to a ‘bed warmer,’ that didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry. And he was certainly angry. 

Albus knew that the old Pureblood families valued blood kinship over everything else, but that did not in any way minimize his anger at Gellert being told that _Albus was not his family_. To begin with, it was _Emmerich_ who had told Gellert that he was no longer welcome in the family in the first place. Gellert had spent six months untethered from his family until the news came that his father had not, after all, officially disowned him. 

But more than that, Albus could not agree with the Pureblood ideal that children owed their parents anything. Particularly in Gellert’s case. If anything, Emmerich owed Gellert, many times over. He had given Gellert nothing more than grave injuries, anguish, and a bottomless need for attention - and in return he had taken Gellert’s sense of self-worth, his social standing, his elf, the physical presence of his brother, and his ability to trust himself. He had made a near-successful effort to take Albus as well. _Family_. What did Emmerich know about…

Albus barely restrained a triumphant sound. _What did Emmerich know?!_

“Gellert – “  
Albus twisted out of Gellert’s arms and turned to face him.  
“Gellert, do you think that he knows about the blood pact?”

Gellert’s expression was soft, concerned.  
“Albus. You were never a _bed warmer_ , Liebling, even before the blood pact. There was _never_ a time when –“

“ _Gellert_ ,” Albus interrupted impatiently, “ _I know_. I know you love me. It’s ok. Just one more lie added to your father’s account. But the reason we were reading this in the first place was for evidence. We’ve been assuming, given how often we spoke of it before we knew we might be being spied on, that Emmerich knew about the blood pact. But he says here that I am _not your family_ …”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t know, Albus. He could just be trying to make us angry and irrational.”  
“That is true. He might be baiting us. But if he does not know about their blood pact after all – if he thinks that it might be possible to divide us… “

Gellert reached out and touched Albus’ face. He met his eyes.  
“Albus –“  
“You want me to –“

Gellert nodded.

Albus entered into Gellert’s mind, into the memory that Gellert had pushed forward for him – Albus sweaty, collapsed on the bed, his skin like a corpse, just on the edge of consciousness. He felt Gellert’s panic, his certainty that he was losing Albus. Then force feeding Albus the bezoar, all the time suspecting – _knowing_ – that it would not be enough to save him.  
‘It _is_ possible to divide us.’

Albus pulled out of Gellert’s mind and kissed him firmly.  
“Together we are stronger than he is. We won’t let him take us away from one another.”

Albus crowded Gellert against the back of the sofa… and realized that this was not a particularly comfortable position for either of them. He backed off, and pulled Gellert down onto his back, then climbed on top of him. 

Looking down at Gellert like this, pinned beneath him, Albus was surprised by how fierce he felt, suddenly, how – not just protective – how _possessive_ he felt. Gellert was _his_. And if he had been feeling earlier that Gellert was his _responsibility_ , right now, he knew that Gellert was his _entirely_ – Albus could concede that he had to share him with the world, but not with Emmerich. That man would have no part of Gellert – if it took his entire life to do so, Albus was going to pry each finger loose until Gellert was entirely free of his father’s grasp. _Emmerich could not have him._

Albus bent down and kissed Gellert. He had meant for it to be tender, but it was rough and desperate from the start. His tongue immediately forced its way into Gellert’s mouth, his hand curled tightly around the back of Gellert’s neck. After a few moments, he started to pull away, worried that he had gone too far, that this had been mistimed. But Gellert wrapped his arm tightly around Albus’ back and grabbed the back of his head in his other hand, keeping him in place, devouring Albus’ tongue hungrily. 

They pulled away gasping. Albus met Gellert’s eyes.  
‘Mine.’  
‘Yours.’

Albus felt suddenly exhausted. He collapsed onto Gellert’s chest and rested his forehead on Gellert’s shoulder.  
“I wish we could stop reading this letter,” Albus admitted.  
“But you know we can’t.”  
“But I know we can’t.”

They were silent for a moment. Albus focused on the feeling of his body rising and falling with Gellert’s every breath.

“It’s not that bad, you know.”  
Albus lifted up his head and looked at Gellert incredulously.  
“It _was_ , without you. But now – it’s good, actually. It had been so long since I had heard from him, and I haven’t heard from him at all since I’ve met you. Now I have new evidence of how awful he is – some new reason to be angry at him – and you are here with me –“

Yes, Albus was with Gellert, solid, undeniably real, insisting on unearthing and loving every part of this man who had been loved too little.  
By Gellert’s standards, Albus could see how that might render this letter ‘not that bad.’ But as far as Albus was concerned? Anything that damaged Gellert – anything that merely _threatened_ to damage Gellert – should not be graced with existence.  
But it did exist, and they did need to read it.

Albus smiled reassuringly and kissed Gellert’s forehead.  
“Fine, then. Back to this cursed letter.”  
He got off of Gellert and sat up with his back against the back of the sofa and his legs tucked up against his chest. Gellert sat up too and pointed to the far end of the sofa.  
“No, sit there,” he ordered. “You were right – I need my head in your lap.”  
This was not the time to crow over the words ‘you were right,’ but it was a near thing, as often as Gellert teased about always being right himself.

Once they were settled, with Albus’ hand in Gellert’s hair, Albus reached out his free hand. The letter came to him, and he began reading once more.

_Ich erwarte Dich vor Sonnenuntergang am Abend der Sonnenwende._

‘Before the sun sets’ – so needlessly dramatic, so -  
Wait. The sun. It was almost like Emmerich was taunting them. Of course! The sunrise… where in Bavaria did the Grindelwalds live, exactly? It probably wouldn’t make too much of a difference, that small distance, but if they lived in the southwest, near the Ettaler Forest, for instance…  
This was no coincidence. 

No. Absolutely not. Gellert was not going. It was even more dangerous than Albus had first supposed.

_Ich kann nicht glauben, dass es nötig ist, Dir das zu sagen._

“Your father is the most condescending arse…”  
Gellert snorted. “That is the least of his faults.”  
Albus laughed. 

_Es ist eine Schande,_

His laughter dried up as his eyes passed over the next words. He hesitated. Should he read them? Gellert had shed enough tears over Zinnie already that day.  
Albus sighed. That was not his decision to make.

“Liebling?”  
Gellert turned his head and looked up at Albus.  
“I know that you did not read that in the letter,” he said with a bitter laugh.  
“No – I – he –“  
Albus looked down at the letter. He couldn’t read the next words. He wouldn’t. 

“He’s – there’s a veiled threat against Otto. Do you want to hear it?”  
“I want to hear it _all_ , Albus. Don’t think I don’t know you are skipping something.”  
Albus rolled his eyes. This was one of those rare moments when it was inconvenient, how well Gellert knew him.

“Fine – I –“  
The words felt like they would not come without some outside lever to pry them free. But he could do it. Better for him to be the one to say such cruel words than for Gellert to have to speak them himself. He started the paragraph over.

_Es ist eine Schande, dass Du Zinnie nicht länger besitzt. Sie war eine ausgezeichnete, pflichtbewusste Elfe_

Gellert growled at these words, but Albus kept reading as if he hadn’t heard him.

_und hätte Dich Deine Familie nicht vergessen lassen. Wäre sie noch bei Dir -_

Albus was once again cut off mid-sentence, this time by the letter spontaneously catching fire. Albus put it out before it could become unreadable and continued as if there had been no interruption.

_so hätte ich diesen Brief nicht schreiben müssen._

Albus did not pause long enough for either of them to speak, nor even for them to think very long about what he had just read. 

_Wenn Dich keins dieser Argumente überzeugen kann, so denke daran, wie Dein jüngerer Bruder in Deiner Abwesenheit leiden wird._

“It wouldn’t make any sense for him to hurt Otto,” Albus said. “I truly believe that. Not even to get to you.”  
“Not causing permanent damage is different from not causing harm, Albus.”  
Albus had to concede that that was true.  
His eyes returned to the letter. All that was left was the signature.

_Dein Vater,  
Wilhelm Karl Emmerich von Grindelwald, Prinz von Bayern_

“Prinz von Bayern,” Albus repeated in a whisper. “Prinz von –“  
“Albus – it’s not - ”  
“ _Prince of Bavaria_ , Gellert?”  
“Please, Albus. Let it go?”

Albus closed his eyes and sighed. This wasn’t just any secret. This was one of the most important so far. And Gellert had been keeping it from him for more than a year.

Gellert grabbed Albus hand, pulling it from his head and holding it to his chest.  
“We can talk about it later, I promise.”  
Albus forced himself to open his eyes and nod. After all that Emmerich had put them through with that letter, it was certainly not the time for Albus to be indulging hurt feelings over Gellert hiding something as trivial as _being part of some kind of royal family?!_

He looked away and shouted, "Hugo!"  
Hugo popped into the room, wringing his hands.  
"No," he said.  
"'No,' what?" Albus asked angrily.  
"You were going to ask me if I knew, and I did not. Löwenzahn only called Gellert's father 'Emmerich.' He did call the family the 'von Grindelwalds,' but you had already called his father 'Lord Grindelwald,' and... no."

Albus shouted and Gellert sat up warily.  
"Albus," Hugo ventured, "You might not wish to -"  
"No, Hugo. I do not want to hear it."  
Albus covered his face with his hands.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.  
“What?" Gellert sounded confused. "What does Jesus have to do with – what is –“  
Albus sighed and looked up. “I – Phineas. He was so shocked when I told him I was with you. He said – well, he cussed first, like a Muggle – completely unlike him – and then he said to me ‘he can’t keep you.’ Gods. I must have looked like an idiot to him. I thought you were just from some common or garden pretentious Pureblood family, but instead –“

“ _Instead_ ,” Gellert interrupted, “Instead I am from an _extraordinarily_ pretentious Pureblood family.”  
Gellert knelt facing Albus. He reached towards Albus, but then dropped his hand uncertainly. Albus did not much feel like reassuring him.  
“My father is delusional, Albus. He is obviously not the Prince of Bavaria. That is a Muggle title, and not even a current one.”  
“And the current title is - ?”  
Gellert winced. “King?”

“King,” Albus answered flatly, eyebrows raised.  
Gellert gripped his hair in frustration.  
“Albus, listen. The rule of Wizarding Bavaria is not strictly monarchical, no matter what my father might wish.”  
“Not _strictly_ monarchical?”  
Gellert groaned and fell onto his back.  
“It is _not important_!” He shouted at the ceiling. “Even if he had not removed me from the line of succession, I never would have styled myself the Prince of Bavaria, and Otto won’t either. It’s _not real_.”

“Whatever you say, Your Royal Highness.”  
Oh no. The moment the words were out of Albus’ mouth, he heard them coming out of Misha’s – also in a mocking tone, also coming from a man Gellert had trusted, a man he had thought he loved.  
‘Why, your Royal Highness! Back so soon? If you are going to grow up to be the King of Cocksucking, you are going to need more than one loyal subject. I’ve told my friends – they are all ready to pledge their cocks to Bavaria…’  
It made sense to Albus in an instant, why Gellert had not seen that vulture for what he was - he imagined Gellert hoping and imagining that Misha's irreverence was indicative of being unaffected by Gellert's family name - only to learn that Misha did care, in the ugliest way possible.

“This is _exactly_ why I didn’t tell you.”  
No wonder he had not told Albus from the very beginning.  
“Gellert, I’m so sorry – I shouldn’t have –“  
He was going to kill Misha. Just as soon as they had taken care of Emmerich. 

Gellert stood and faced Albus, looking as angry and frightened as a fox in a trap.  
“You were the _first person in my life_ not to know about my family’s status before even meeting me! You had no idea! ‘Grindelwald’ meant _nothing_ to you –“

“It _didn’t_ mean nothing,” Albus insisted.

Albus still remembered the first time he had said ‘Grindelwald,’ so overwhelmed by Gellert’s attention and poise and attractiveness that he was barely able to choke out the name. Albus crawled to the end of the sofa and knelt there, taking Gellert’s hands in his own. He met his eyes.

“It meant a beautiful boy with golden hair and a mischievous smile who was luring me into making innuendos in front of his aunt… “  
Albus was distracted for a moment by the question of whether Bathilda actually was Gellert’s aunt. This new revelation made that seem impossible. He pushed the thought away. He could ask later. It wasn’t important.

“I’m so sorry, Gellert. Of course, you needed to know for certain that I want you for everything that you are – not for how prestigious it is to know you or to have your attention.”  
‘Not for the power trip of having a man of such high status on his knees in front of me,’ Albus thought. 

Gellert dropped Albus’ hands and walked to the fireplace. 

“It’s – yes, but only in the beginning. And even then, I don’t think that I thought of it like that. I thought of it as wanting you for myself. I wanted to be everything I was without whatever being a Grindelwald meant. To have you without regard for what it meant for Bavaria.”

Yes, Albus was now imagining that Gellert’s insistence on focusing on the now, while chiefly about his visions of the future, had also been an attempt to distance himself from his past – to assert some control over his present that he had not had before. 

“But Albus, it’s not _just_ that. It’s that – I don’t want for this to become the thing that explains everything about me. Your one most important piece of data – ‘Naturally, since Gellert was brought up thinking he was going to be King of Bavaria…’”

Albus couldn’t deny that he was reassessing everything in light of that data point right now, already. But it wasn’t the ‘one most important piece of data’ – no piece of data was ever the one piece, the only piece. This was not even close to being the most important piece. But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t important _at all_. For explaining Gellert? Perhaps, but more for protecting him, for protecting them both. More for explaining everyone around them.

“… when this title – that I don’t even hold anymore - isn’t really _relevant_ to anything.”  
Gellert was clearly upset – he didn’t seem able to keep still. He was now pacing, gesturing broadly and periodically looking back at Albus before returning his attention to some point in the middle distance, as if he were capable of peering into Hugo's space between the spaces. 

“Gellert, I love you. To me you will _never_ be the deposed heir to the throne of Bavaria – for myself, I don't care about that. To me, you are my home, my love, my heart. But however much we might not want your father’s title to be relevant, you know very well that it is. Not least because it is information that _every_ Pureblood in Europe has already! I have been going _blind_ into _every room_. If only you had confided it in me – not in Godric's Hollow, not even that day in the café in Paris! _That_ I can forgive!"  
That was - Albus hadn't meant -  
"I can forgive you keeping it from me, Gellert, but that does not mean that I fully understand why you continued once you were sure of us. After introducing me to the Viterres, for instance – that was a good opportunity. You made no secret of already knowing them…”

“I know -” Gellert moaned. “I know. But the longer I went without telling you... I enjoyed it at first, being just Gellert, but it became stressful, the certainty that you would find out, having no idea how you would respond… It seemed that I had let it go on for too long.”

“No, Gellert. It makes sense that – you are right, in Godric’s Hollow, it was irrelevant. I fell in love with you as you were, not with what had made you who you were, whatever that might be. I fell in love with who you were _with me_ , not who you were with everyone I had never met before… But now, yes, now it has gone on for _far_ too long. We are going to need to talk through these past 14 months, and you are going to help me find what I have missed in every interaction.”

Albus could see already that he had missed a great deal. He was astonished – and not a little ashamed – that he hadn’t figured it out on his own long before now. It wasn’t just what he had seen of Mischa in Gellert's memories. It was Drahomir’s joking, ‘And how is the Prince of Bavaria?’ It was the nonchalance with which Gellert handled the parents who threw their daughters at Gellert, as if such things happened all the time. In hindsight, Albus was realizing that it probably _did_ happen all the time. 

“Vinda –“  
“Albus?”  
“Vinda – when I met her in Paris this last time, she told me that her parents weren’t expecting you to marry her, but that they hoped you would take her as your mistress. She said that they had known about Lina – your father hadn’t yet made a public statement about you, so no one knew the two of you were no longer betrothed, and – I thought that couldn't possibly be true, but it was! Wasn’t it?!”

Gellert sighed and ran his hand through his hair.  
“The mistress of a Prince - even of a Lord, if he is of any real significance - can be as powerful, as prestigious as his wife.” Gellert’s voice was tinged with weariness and disgust. “Mr. Rosier was not the first father who would have happily surrendered his daughter to me without the benefit of any legal or magical protection should I – _tire_ of her.”

No, Gellert was decidedly _not_ defined by his upbringing. How had he known to be disgusted by Mr. Rosier’s behavior, rather than flattered, even tempted by it? There were so many instances in which Gellert was surely going against who he had been raised to be.  
Gellert wanted women and Muggleborns to have the same educational opportunities he had had – if he was given a privilege, more often than not, he asked why everyone else did not have it too.  
He had given up both money and power rather than deny his attraction to men when asked, and it would have been easy to have denied it with no consequence, particularly as he was attracted to women as well. If a Prince could take a woman as a lover on the side, then _surely_ he could have done so with men as well, as long as he was willing to be discrete about it. Gellert _must_ have known that – must have known it was possible to lie and lie and bide his time. But self-determination had been more important to him than a title and a guaranteed income – he had seen a way out of a cage and taken it.  
Instead of doing all that he had been raised to do, Gellert was now married to someone _he_ had chosen – someone whom Gellert would only have been allowed as a brief and casual dalliance, if even that. He was going places he never would have been allowed to go, meeting people he never would have been allowed to meet.  
It should not have been possible for Gellert to become the man he was now.

“And you worried I would start explaining you away. You, Love, are entirely _in_ explicable.”  
Gellert laughed. Albus could see the tension release from his face, his shoulders…  
“I didn’t know that you believed in ‘inexplicable’ as a possible category, Professor.”  
Albus laughed, too.

“Usually not. But there is no accounting for how extraordinary you are –“  
“Is this the part where you tell me I’m sexy? Because –“  
“Not if you say it for me before I can get the words out,” Albus teased.

“Gods, you are perfect. Come with me, Albus.”  
“What?”

Albus was afraid he knew exactly what Gellert meant by this sudden change in subject, but he hoped he was wrong.

“We’ll – Polyjuice you or something. Come home with me for Yule.”  
Albus looked away.  
“Polyjuice me? Gellert – it will never work.”  
“No, you are probably right. It is too bad, I would rather take you with me, but you are right – I will have to go alone.”

Was Gellert insane? It was obvious that Bavaria was the last place he should be for Yule. If he had been released from his obligations as a Grindelwald, then it surely followed that he was not obligated to participate in their Yule rites. And even if he were so ‘obliged,’ his father, ‘the Prince of Bavaria,’ was clearly using this invitation as an opportunity to do something terrible to Gellert.

“Gellert. You cannot honestly be thinking of going to Bavaria for Yule.”

Gellert walked back to Albus and pulled him up off of the sofa. He looked excited – and a bit maniacal.  
“Of course, I am! Albus you _must_ see –“

“I will put you under an Imperius before I let you go there.”  
Gellert laughed. “Oh, it is _you_ threatening _me_ with an Imperius now, is it? Your will may be strong enough to throw off my Imperius, but it has not yet stood up to the challenge of successfully casting an Imperius on me.”  
“I have not yet meant it so much as I do now,” Albus said grimly.  
“You’re serious,” Gellert murmured, astonished.

Gellert pulled Albus to him and buried his nose in his hair, but Albus did not return the embrace. He allowed his hands to remain pinned between them, pushing against Gellert’s chest.  
“I _love_ you,” Gellert said, his voice muffled by Albus’ hair. “This is why I must go, Albus. He will _never_ stop trying to hurt you.”

‘No,’ Albus thought, ‘he will never stop trying to hurt _you_. Which is why you must not go.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… folks have been calling Emmerich ‘Lord Grindelwald’ for ease – or (if speaking German) ‘Emmerich von Grindelwald,’ but… yeah. He claims Prince of Bavaria for himself.  
> Most Bavarian Wizarding families acknowledge him as such, as well as a handful of other old Pureblood families in Europe, largely in the area that was once the Holy Roman Empire. The rest see him as a mere Lord – powerful, yes, but not singular – an aristocrat with all of the grandiose ideas and eccentricities they’ve come to expect from a Grindelwald.  
> Either way, there is no family in Bavaria that is so wealthy or politically significant as theirs. All of which means Gellert was not long ago slated to be the head of the most influential Wizarding family in Bavaria, and one of the most influential in all of the German-speaking Wizarding world.  
> Why does Emmerich insist he’s the _Prince_ of Bavaria, and not ‘merely’ a Duke or something? You’re going to have to wait for that story :)
> 
> Language note:  
> ‘Common or garden’ is a slang term that was in heavy use in the late 19th century – basically translates to the more recent slang terms ‘garden variety’ or ‘run of the mill.’


	47. Leopold Ferdinand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up directly from ‘Making a Home’ (the chapter before last), Albus and Gellert discuss sex magic, visit friends in London, revisit the letter, and meet yet another elf.  
> (This is one of those chapters that earns its E rating)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. My personal life is… a dizzying cycle of disintegration and rebuilding at the moment, is probably the most accurate and yet vague thing I can say about it. In any case, it is taking far more time and energy than I would have liked. This fic will probably be updating not so often as I would wish until September. I’m holding out for September. 
> 
> I have made a few changes since posting the last chapter [2 June 2020]. As pertains to this chapter, the most relevant change can be found just a few chapters back in ‘The Price of Safety.’ In Hugo’s discussion of house elf contracts, I clarified the details of the relationship between Didi, the Grindelwald elves, the Sterntal elves, and the Wix of House Grindelwald. It’s just a few details, and it doesn’t negate anything that was there before, but it helped me to have a better foundation when writing this chapter.
> 
> The most significant change that I made to any chapter was to ‘Friends and Allies’ (Chapter 17 in the AO3 index) – the scene in which Wolf gives Albus and Gellert their room. I have never liked the way that I had gotten them into a single room together – it needed fixing.
> 
> Finally, one more change was made in that same chapter, just for fun – Albus has been calling Gellert ‘Raven’ in honor of his animagus form – it struck me that Gellert would likely do the same, but perhaps more playfully, so when they are in Prague, Gellert calls Albus ‘Kätzchen’ for the first time – meaning ‘little cat’ or… ‘kitten.’ Albus is properly indignant about it, but it sticks, and that pet name is now all over the place in the fic. (Chapters 20, 26, 29, 35, 41… and that is not a complete list)  
> So – if you are a longtime reader, and you are seeing it for the first time in this chapter… it’s not the first time in the story. I just – made a revision.
> 
> When I first started writing (almost a year ago!!), I was determined to never change anything except for spelling / grammar / vocabulary errors, in order to be fair to my earliest readers. But it turns out that, writing as I go (instead of prewriting everything and then posting, as I have done with shorter fics) means that I will end up changing little things sometimes. I hope this does not throw anyone off. I’ll try to make a note whenever I change something in prior chapters.

Chapter 43  
October 1900, continued

Gellert’s hands were everywhere – except for Albus’ cock, because there would have been no room for a hand between them, as hard as Gellert was grinding against him.  
Gellert was making it very difficult for Albus to think clearly.

Albus broke his mouth away from Gellert’s.  
“Gellert –“  
“Mmm. Albus – gods – “

“Gellert! Love, stop.”  
Gellert dropped his hands and took a step back, looking embarrassed.  
“I’m sorry, did you not –“

Albus almost followed Gellert with a step forward. He wanted to reassure him, to kiss that frown away, to - 

No, they did need to talk about this.

“No, Gellert, it’s not that I –“  
Gellert looked dazed and dishevelled. He was breathing heavily, running his hand nervously through his hair.  
“Fuck, you’re hot,” Albus muttered under his breath.  
Gellert smirked. “So that, at least, is not the problem.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I – it’s only, you see…”  
Albus looked out at the platform.  
“Gellert, I didn’t see what you saw. You have this vision of us having sex in the moonlight, but all I have is – well, something that I have never given much thought to, except to think that it was probably a hoax. So, you are ready to take my clothes off, and I am – needing to remind myself that you are not someone who needs to make up stories in order to get me to take my clothes off.”

“Make up stories?” Gellert asked, sounding offended.  
Albus turned back to Gellert.  
“No, I mean. Obviously, I believe you. But as recently as half an hour ago, if you had asked me, _without telling me what you know_ \- if you had asked me if I thought that sex magic was real, I would have said, ‘absolutely not.’ So… I need to know what you are talking about before it becomes … a help rather than a hinderance in the matter of clothes removal.”

Gellert laughed.  
“’In the matter of clothes removal.’ Outstanding.”  
Albus blushed. 

“I’m just saying – I love you, and I trust you, but I hear the words ‘sex magic,’ and I think…”  
“I did not actually use the words, ‘sex magic,’ though. That would not be the exact right thing to say, I think. What I am talking about is engaging in sex, as part of ritual magic.”  
“Naturally, yes. That did sound like what you were describing.”  
“But you were thinking of something else?”

Albus knew that this was going to sound stupid. He hated sounding stupid about magic in front of Gellert (forgetting for the moment that Gellert was the only person his age that he had ever met that knew more about magic than he did, and also ignoring that he knew many things about magic that Gellert did not.)  
He also hated giving Gellert opportunities to say ‘Hogwarts’ in his most disdainful tone of voice.  
But there was no helping it.

“Sit?” Albus asked.  
Gellert nodded, and they sat side by side, looking out over the ocean.

“When I was in school, there were rumours of rituals that were tremendously involved, but if done properly, would lead to – unimaginably good sex. But given that the only people who claimed to know anything about this were boys my own age, and that their primary interest in this information seemed to be persuading one or another girl to try it with them…”  
“Unsuccessfully, I imagine?”  
“Unsuccessfully,” Albus agreed.

“And you believed this was a hoax because - ?”  
“Because my roommates were unlikely to know something about magic that I didn’t, because they would say or believe anything if it meant that they might finally succeed in persuading a girl to have sex with them, and because they had no answers when asked for specifics.”  
Albus braced himself for the reply that it was no surprise that this kind of idiocy went unchecked at Hogwarts.

“So, of course, you were right. To say such rituals exist would be true only in the most warped way. It is a complete mischaracterization. The purpose…”

Suddenly, Albus was haunted by a new worry, and it couldn’t wait.  
“How do _you_ know about sex magic, Gellert?”  
Before Gellert could answer, Albus rephrased the question:  
“That is, you haven’t – Have you ever – Gellert…?”

“Oh, Kätzchen. Come lay your head in my lap.”  
Albus was not sure that he was happy that Gellert was delaying answering his question, but he did as Gellert had asked, and Gellert began playing with Albus’ hair.

“You, Love, need never be jealous on that count. I have only done it once –“  
Albus tensed up.  
“ – and that was with you. In Paris when we made the blood pact.”  
“We - ?”  
“Let me finish, Liebling. I want to assure you that I didn’t mean to – I didn’t know it would happen, I didn’t plan for it, I _never_ would have set out to do such a thing without your full knowledge, but – when we took one another at the end – the candles snuffed out only after we had made one another come.”  
That made it sound like less than it was. They had pleasured one another to the point of being unable to move.  
“We – yes, Albus, sex magic.”

But hadn’t that been – that had simply been sex _after_ magic, hadn’t it? They were constantly having sex that seemed to be impelled by a force that they had no control over. Albus had felt an overwhelming need for Gellert after the ritual, but that had been true so many other times – after arguments and near misses and magical experiments, in response to extravagant declarations of love… sometimes the sunlight hitting Gellert in just the right way was enough to drive Albus to pin him to the bed before he knew what was happening.

“Gellert, are you sure?“

“At the time, it did not even occur to me. But I didn’t know anything about this kind of magic, either. There were similar rumours at Durmstrang – boys claiming to have performed ritual magic that made the sex indescribable. A professor overheard one of them boasting, and he mocked him. He said it was rare for any two people to be suited for such a thing – that it was only possible during a ritual that was anchored in the practitioners’ bodies, and that simply using a body as an anchor was ‘beyond such a substandard Wizard’s meagre capabilities.’ Then he questioned whether the boy would find someone willing to try such a thing with him in any case.”

Albus was once again glad not to have gone to Durmstrang.

“Even for people capable of such powerful magic, he said that to have sex in such a situation would have no effect at all unless the ritual were performed by people whose desire for one another and for the outcome of the ritual were ‘perfectly aligned.’ So for me, it didn’t seem worth looking into. I was in love with you already – if ever I were to be perfectly aligned with anyone, I was certain it would be you, but I had no assurance that I would ever meet you, or that you would fall in love with me if we met. And even if we did meet, even if you did love me, that did not guarantee that we would desire one another in the same way. In any case, the way he spoke of it, it was clear that sex was not obligatory for ritual magic, even for rituals anchored in the body. Not that I wanted to do that kind of ritual at all without you. Rituals anchored in the body are still quite intimate.”

“But – you knew I loved you by then, so why didn’t you at least suggest -”  
“Yes, but I had found nothing that indicated that a blood pact had ever been used in the way that we were using it, so there was no precedent for incorporating sex into the ritual.”

For a moment, Albus was distracted by the idea of a king’s advisor nervously telling him that it was going to be necessary not only to exchange blood with the ruler he was making a treaty with, but to exchange certain other bodily fluids as well.  
“And since I had never seriously considered using sex in a ritual at all before, it didn’t occur to me to look into it.”

“But you’re sure now. You said you weren’t sure before, that the sex was part of the ritual, but now you _are_ sure.”  
“The whole experience was like something outside of time. I didn’t think about it at all for days, but it came back to me later, and as I remembered, it was only then that I began to wonder. So, I looked for more information and…  
“Albus, I – at the end, when I was inside of you, it was very different from anything I had felt before. I felt hyperaware of everything about you – every gasp, every drop of perspiration. Your fingernails were digging into me, but each one with a slightly different amount of pressure, and as the pressure shifted, your fingers were speaking to me, telling me exactly what you needed from me. Time slowed so that I could register everything – every detail of how you looked and sounded and felt. And with every thrust, it was as if there was a voice in my head reciting a word or a phrase of our vows, and when it reached the end – it was exactly then that I came. Which was – “ 

Gellert’s hand, which had been slowly moving through Albus’ hair all this time, stilled. Albus looked up at Gellert, who was eyeing him warily.  
“You are very quiet.”  
“I was listening to you.”  
“Albus. Gods, tell me I was not imagining it. Was it - not the same for you?”  
Albus had not experienced anything like what Gellert had just described, but the sex that morning in Paris had been singular, impossible to categorize.

“It was only the same in that it was intensely different. I don’t know that I’ve thought about it until now. I just remembered the sex being extraordinary, and dreamlike, and… I don’t know that I have more than these really strong impressions.”  
Gellert’s hand had started moving again, massaging Albus’ scalp now, and Albus closed his eyes and sank into his memory. 

“Our lips and our hands and – I needed you entirely, I couldn’t think, I could only want and need and… there was warmth, starting near the base of my spine where the vow had entered, and it began spreading through me, and the warmth became heat, almost overwhelming heat for a moment, and then – everything became too dark. I could only feel and smell and taste you, I could hear the tiniest sound, but you, the roof, the sky – everything was obscured, I could see nothing. And then there was a star, a red eight-pointed star – our star, the mark of our vows. It was above us, glowing like fire, and it illuminated your face, and then all of you – only you and only me, glowing in the light of the star, and everything else was darkness –  
“Until now, whenever I have come close to thinking of it, my thoughts have veered away, as if there were a repelling charm on the memory, keeping me away from it. It was – beyond sex. Usually I am focused only on our bodies and my feelings for you, and this – it was – “ 

“As if it was not just us there, for a moment. It was you, and I, _and Magic_.”  
That was – not something Albus would have ever thought on his own, but it sounded right. 

“In the end, I was washed over with the assurance that you loved me, and I loved you, and you were mine and I was yours, and my magic was in you as much as it was in me. And I wanted for us to be one body forever, to be so physically connected that neither of us could move without the other. That’s what I was left remembering – the feeling that I would never be apart from you again.”

Gellert ran his thumb along Albus’ bottom lip. “Never be apart from you again,” he echoed.  
Albus pushed himself up and climbed into Gellert’s lap. He wrapped his hand around the back of Gellert’s neck and kissed him. Gellert opened his mouth to Albus right away, and as the wind began to pick up, a shield enveloped them without Albus even thinking about it. 

The moment Albus noticed, he pulled away.  
“Did I do that?” he asked anxiously.  
“No, Love, that was me,” Gellert reassured him.

Albus nodded, and leaned in to kiss Gellert again. He pulled back at the last minute.  
“You’ve thought about it – what it means that we did this without meaning to?”  
Gellert closed the distance and kissed Albus softly on the lips.  
“Always so many questions,” he murmured affectionately.  
Albus smiled.  
“You are going to have to get off of my lap if you want them answered. Your lips are too close to mine for me to want to use them for talking.”  
This sounded like an appealing invitation. Albus pushed Gellert onto his back and kissed him for some time before realizing that he had, in fact, meant for them to talk more after all. He sat up, still straddling Gellert.

“There you are – now our mouths are far away enough for talking.”  
Gellert lifted his hips, pressing his erection tightly against Albus.  
“Yes, very far away, I see.”  
“It’s not as if you talk with your cock.”

“Yes! That’s – excellent, Albus! Sex is – we are speaking with our cocks.”  
“Speaking with our cocks?! Gellert - "  
“No, Albus, think of it. When we have sex, we are telling one another… We are expressing with our bodies that we desire to care for one another, to find our pleasure in one another, to share ourselves with one another. When we have sex during a ritual, it is the same. The words that we speak when we are performing magic – magic is about intent, yes? We have to mean it. This is why, for most people, sex is not effective as part of ritual magic. But for you and I, the way we love one another – what we say with our bodies, we mean it. When we are having sex, _we share the same intent._  
“So, you and I, we speak words with our mouths, and with our bodies, we speak too. Now suppose that we are performing a dual casting ritual – the intent of the ritual is to bind and amplify our magical power by common agreement, opening a channel between the two of us that allows for us to freely share our intentions - directly, mind to mind - when casting. This expression of trust, this desire for a new connection, we affirm it not only with our words but with our _whole bodies_ – hands, mouths, and yes, cocks, too. _That_ is what happens when we have sex as part of a ritual.  
“When we formed the pact, Magic simply… forced the issue. It must have found it necessary for what we were hoping to accomplish. Or it was pushing us to consider this kind of magic. Perhaps both.”

Albus smiled mischievously.  
“So, it would be better to say that we were bound to one another by blood _and come?_ ”  
“Why do I feel that, if I had said that, you would have found it disrespectful?” Gellert asked, getting up enough to throw Albus off of him. Before long, Gellert was the one lying on top of Albus, and they were not only kissing, but rubbing against one another urgently, and Gellert was moaning Albus' name.  
Albus began laughing. 

“What?”  
“We are right back where we started, except that I am completely convinced.”  
“Then we are nowhere near where we started, Liebling.”  
Albus laughed again.  
“No, we are not.”

Gellert bent down to kiss Albus again, but Albus held him back, pressing a hand to his chest. 

“It is still not possible,” Albus said. “The ritual as you described it… It is freezing out here, even with our clothes on, and we are not exposed to the sea spray up here.”  
Gellert took Albus’ hand and pinned it above his head. He bent down and kissed Albus’ neck, removing his mouth only just long enough to counter, “warming charm,” before latching back on.  
“A solid stone slab sounds… uncomfortable.”  
“Cushioning charm.”  
“Doesn’t that alter…?”

Gellert groaned impatiently and pulled back.  
“I thought you said that you were _completely convinced_!“  
“I need to know, Gellert. I keep – getting distracted.”  
Gellert laughed and kissed him on the nose.  
“Am I distracting you from your questions, Love? Or are your questions distracting you from my mouth?”  
Albus grinned and answered, “Yes.”  
Gellert rolled his eyes.

“Fine, then. A cushioning charm is a charm, not alchemy. It doesn’t change the substance of the stone at all, it is like… levitation, essentially. The air between you and the object acts as a cushion.”

‘Obviously a cushioning charm is not alchemy! I never said anything about…’ Albus began thinking indignantly. But pausing to reconsider what Gellert had been saying, his defensiveness eased. He had never really thought about what a cushioning charm actually _did_ – only how it _felt_. The way Gellert had described the charm was fascinating, if Albus could simply let go of the condescension that had preceded it.

“So, when we cast a cushioning charm on a wall, I’m not actually touching the wall?”  
“Basically not.”  
_Basically_ not? Why _basically_ not?  
“Ok, cushioning charm, then. But wouldn’t we need something to reduce the wind? It would blow out the candles, or the waves might…”

Gellert laughed. “No candles. We won’t need them, I think. So, the stone and the water and the air being brought up to a reasonable temperature should be enough. Any more questions, Professor?”  
Albus had grown to like it when Gellert called him ‘Professor.’ 

“You already know that I _always_ have more questions.”  
“Let’s see if I have more answers,” Gellert said, standing up and pulling Albus up after him. He wrapped his arms around Albus and kissed him deeply, and when Albus opened his eyes, they were on the platform. Gellert had apparated them without Albus even noticing, without breaking the kiss.  
Albus groaned and returned to kissing Gellert – but just for a moment before thinking to himself, ‘We are _on the platform_.’

“Gellert,” he asked, “how are we on the platform?”  
“The wards on the island shouldn’t have allowed it, you mean? When I placed the platform, I also set up a dedicated apparition point for us to access it from the cliff’s edge.”  
Good enough.  
“And _why_ are we on the platform?”

“Wand,” Gellert requested.  
Albus handed Gellert the Wand, and when Gellert moved it in an upwards spiralling motion, the air warmed considerably, and their clothes disappeared. The stone, too, was warm beneath their bare feet.  
“I thought,” Gellert said with a mischievous smile, “that Professor Dumbledore might like a demonstration. He has some doubts about this platform that need answering.”

Gellert spun Albus around and pulled him tight against him. His back to Gellert’s chest, Albus faced out across the ocean to the empty horizon. The roar of the waves battering the rocks behind him were all Albus could hear. The sky was gray, but the air was saturated with water droplets, making everything seem luminous. It was easy, standing here, to believe that the ocean was endless, that he was part of the endlessness, empty and expansive at the same time. 

Gellert’s arm tightened around Albus’ chest. His other hand moved from Albus’ hip and began stroking his cock. Gellert’s mouth moved from Albus’ neck to right beside his ear.  
“What do you think, Albus? Comfortable?”

Albus moaned.  
He was connected to Gellert and to the ocean at the same time. He felt –  
Concerned, suddenly.

Albus laid his hand over Gellert’s, stilling it. Gellert released Albus and stepped back, so that Albus could turn around.  
Albus drew close to Gellert, wrapped his arm around him and spoke into his ear so that he could be heard over the waves.

“Is this ok, though? To be out here for sex only? No ritual?”  
“It is perfect,” Gellert answered, and, without further explanation knelt down and took Albus into his mouth. 

Albus cried out as all of his attention rushed to his cock. It took a moment for his mind to work well enough simply to rake his fingers through Gellert’s hair. Gellert looked up at Albus, meeting his eyes without removing his mouth. Albus felt Gellert smile around him, and he groaned. When Gellert’s eyes lowered again, Albus looked at the waves hitting the rocks, the dramatic sweep of the cliff, their island, their home together.  
Gellert increased his suction and Albus gasped. His eyes returned to Gellert, droplets of water clinging to his pale hair. He watched as his cock disappeared into Gellert’s mouth again and again – it was too much. He closed his eyes and he lost himself in the feel of Gellert’s mouth once more.

Late that morning, after they had thoroughly tested Gellert’s assertion that the platform was indeed a very good place to have sex, they lay tangled together on the stone.  
‘No, we are hovering over the stone,’ Albus reminded himself. ‘However imperceptibly, we are hovering.’  
It surprised him, how safe he felt exposed here above the wild ocean. The wind rushed over them, and the salt spray was beading on his skin, but he was not chilled. They were out in the open but completely hidden, alone together with only the earth to witness them.

“Convinced?” Gellert asked between lazy kisses.  
“Mmmm,” Albus affirmed. He was not yet able to make words. 

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

Two days later, they were in London. It could not have been more evident that they were not, in fact, the only human beings in the world.

“It was kind of you to come see us off,” Bozena said. “Unnecessary, but kind.”  
Unnecessary! That had been exactly what Albus had said to Gellert when he had brought it up, as they were walking back to the cottage from the cliffside.  
“It was entirely necessary,” Albus countered. “We have seen neither of you since you were wed.”

“I am so glad to have friends of Bozena’s here,” Phineas said. “You are my friends, too, of course, but… Bozena knows no one here yet but my family, and the two of you.”  
“Unfortunately, I can only claim to have known Bozena ten months,” Albus said, “but she is a wonderful woman and you are lucky to have her.”  
He turned to Bozena, and added with a wink, “Phineas, for his part, is, I suppose, acceptable.”  
“Do not sell my husband short, Albus Dumbledore!” Bozena scolded. “He gives excellent footrubs.”

Sirius stood.  
“Seeing as this is such a casual visit, I am going to leave before I hear something yet more personal about my younger brother.”  
He took his leave of them individually before closing the door of the parlour behind him. 

Albus raised an eyebrow at Phineas.  
Phineas waved his hand. “He was looking for an excuse to leave. He’s been like that for months.”  
“I believe,” Gellert said, “that Albus was actually asking if it was true about the foot rubs, but he didn’t want to say so out loud, lest I take it as flirting and be forced to kill you.”  
Bozena laughed. 

“Don’t kill him, Gellert! It _is_ true about the foot rubs, and I am not willing to give them up so soon.”  
“And what does he get out of this arrangement?”  
“She tells me all about the books she is reading, so that I can focus on improving my billiards game.”

“That is not true!” Bozena said, eyes merry.  
She turned to Albus. “Does this deceit work? Does anyone actually believe that he is lazy and unlettered?”  
“Absolutely no one believes it. He is annoyingly well regarded in every possible way.”

“So, America,” Gellert said, breaking a brief silence. “Is it the Svobodas or the Blacks that are giving you trouble?”  
“Both,” said Bozena, at the same time that Phineas said, “Neither.”

“They are not bothering us enough to force a move.”  
“Yet,” Bozena countered.  
“Yet,” Phineas agreed, before turning to the Albus and Gellert and adding, “My father and sister are too much in our business, Bozena's parents are sending her Howlers, Bozena is surrounded by people who are insisting on speaking English to her, in spite of their own proficiency in French..."  
"And I have been bored already for the two years since graduation, and would like to work. Which I had not realized would be just as scandalous here as it is in Bohemia."  
"Just as scandalous, but not impossible," Phineas turned to Bozena to argue. "I agree that there is little that is considered _acceptable_ for an intelligent Pureblood British Witch to do other than act as a shadow politician at dinner parties, but working is not _prohibited_ , and I would welcome the opportunity to defend your choice –“  
“There would be _too many_ opportunities, Phineas. It would be exhausting. Besides, we have found nothing here that would suit me.”

Whatever America’s other faults might be, Witches were well respected there, and it was easy for them to find paying jobs. And Wizarding blood was impossible to trace, given that No-Maj had their pasts erased when they were adopted into Wizarding families – so ‘Pureblood society,’ was not a category in America. While it wasn’t true that this resulted in there being no class divisions, those divisions were more flexible than those in Europe, and came with fewer social constraints.

The single article that Albus had promised _The Daily Prophet_ about his travels in America had turned into a series of articles, including one on the No-Maj adoption policy. The article had stirred up a great deal of controversy, especially because Albus, to all outward appearances, was cautiously withholding judgment, instead ‘simply sharing’ what he had discovered.  
Almost every political faction had reason to take issue with the idea of such a thing being done in Britain – which had caused renewed debate about exactly what was meant by those who advocated for ‘total separation.’ It would now be years before any concrete proposals would be ready for an up or down vote. Albus had bought himself the time he needed.

Apparently, the article had also served to stir Phineas’ interest in the international plight of Muggleborns. Earlier in the evening, Albus had shared the story that Auror Carson had told him about the anonymous letter informing him of his obliviation at age six and his removal from a No-Maj home. Like all of the children who had been ‘rescued’ in this way, Carson had had no idea – had thought that his parents were, indeed his birthparents.  
When he went to his parents for answers, his mother had been very upset – had insisted that it had been a cruel joke. Carson’s father had spoken to him privately later, confessing that Mrs. Carson had asked to have false memories implanted at the time of his adoption, because she did not think that she would be able to keep the secret. He was asked not to bring it up again in front of his mother.  
‘If you think you are unable to spare her,’ his father had said, ‘do us the kindness of not coming home.’

Albus had been puzzling over the letter for some time – who would have sent such a thing? Who would have _known_ to send it? And what was their motivation?

Phineas, for his part, was drawn to the humanitarian problem. The unknown person who had written to Auror Carson had been cruel to do so, but less cruel than the individuals who had taken him from his family in the first place. And while Phineas did not blame Carson's parents for adopting him (after all, someone had to raise these children), he was incensed that his father had not been more supportive. Phineas was determined to learn more about the system, and whether it had broad support.

He was curious also about the limits on the magic detection system in America.  
“I wonder if house elf magic is detectable in No-Maj areas?”  
“Hugo has not mentioned one way or the other, but I would think not. He knows an awful lot about Muggle literature, philosophy, history… I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent some time living in a Muggle library.”  
“I was thinking that I could run an experiment – ask Thorn to apparate into and out of a No-Maj area, perhaps levitate an item or two while he was there… If he is caught, I can profess ignorance as a foreigner. One way or the other, I will know for certain.”

Bozena had been excitedly telling Gellert about having been accepted by Ilvermorny’s Arithmancy professor as an apprentice (Madam Bouchard was Québécois, and welcomed this rare opportunity to instruct someone in French while remaining at the school), but interrupted herself to tease Phineas, saying, “I cannot think why Phineas would need for Thorn to be able to apparate undetected, unless he is hoping for regular access to No-Maj military outpost towns.”

Phineas blushed. “That is not - !”  
Gellert laughed.  
“No, I imagine you can find your way to the likeliest places in any major city just fine, without needing to resort to military bases.”

“Gellert –“ Albus warned.  
‘He may not be wanting to talk about this in company.’  
‘He had no problem talking about it when we went to the opera together.’

“I will not apologize for defending our friend’s ability to find men without his elf’s assistance, but I can promise to speak of it no further. Unless provoked.”

‘Gellert! He was not yet _married_ then.’  
‘ _What_ marriage? Bozena –‘  
‘seems unconcerned, even encouraging, I agree. But Phineas may very well – You were right when you said that they needed to see us, Gellert. Neither of them has someone to talk to about these things, apart from us. But he might require still more privacy.’

“Phineas, I have not yet seen the library here at Grimmauld Place. Would you mind –“  
Phineas stood, and gestured for Albus to follow him.  
“I would be delighted, Albus.”

Gellert gave Albus a sharp look.  
‘I don’t see why this is necessary.’  
‘I want to be sure he understands that he is not disrespecting Bozena if –‘  
‘If he kisses you in the library?’  
‘Gellert! I am not going to be kissing anyone but you anywhere.’  
Albus broke eye contact and they left the room. 

Phineas had pointed out that there were portraits in the library, so they made their way to the kitchen.  
Once they were seated at the table, Phineas sighed, “Well, give me my lecture, then.”  
“No lecture, Phineas, just a question. What are the chief difficulties in being married to Bozena?”

“She’s wonderful, Albus. You were right about her. She's brilliant, funny, already a good friend. You don’t need to worry on my account.”  
“I’m not worried at all. I am, however, _aware_ that you are married to a woman, and however convenient it is that she is not interested in sharing your bed –“  
Phineas blushed again. Honestly. As if he had never - 

“Phineas. I was given to understand that you have, in fact, had sex?”  
“Albus!”  
Perhaps being married to Gellert had made him too matter-of-fact. Still, far better for him to be taking on this job rather than Gellert.  
“No, you’re right. That is not my business. However, it seems important - I remember you saying that you did not wish to disrespect Bozena with any – men you might meet. And she suggested that you might be interested in travelling to No-Maj areas for the purpose of –“

“’Suggested’ is an understatement.”  
It truly was not an understatement.

“So – have you spoken to her about it?”  
“It would be more honest to say that _she_ has spoken to _me_.”  
Bozena did seem like someone who would want clarity for her own sake, as well as for Phineas'. 

“I see. Phineas, I have no doubt that Bozena wants you to be - taken care of. Be discrete, obviously, but – if you hold back from – meeting men – let that be on your own account only?”  
“Yes, father.”  
“I doubt that your father would ever tell you anything of the sort.”  
Phineas grimaced. “Indeed not.”

A bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses appeared in front of them, and Albus laughed.  
“Whoever did that, thank you very much.”  
He poured for them both.  
“Albus, you seem preoccupied tonight. Is everything ok?”

Everything was _not_ ok. However much he loved Gellert, he had not yet found it possible to forgive him for keeping his father’s title a secret. Alone on their island, it was easy to forget the offense, but when Gellert had suggested this visit, the easy rapport between them had evaporated. This, in turn, had made Gellert remorseful, defensive, and frightened, in a dizzying rotation. It had been an uncomfortable two days.

It wasn’t that Albus hadn’t been aware all along that they did not have a similar status in Wizarding society – he had known that very well. Everywhere they went on the Continent, there were bound to be Wizards and Witches who would think of Albus as Gellert’s pet Halfblood: a diversion, an adolescent bid to annoy his father. Albus knew that no matter how he behaved, no matter how intelligent his conversation, not being a Pureblood made more and more of a difference the further they travelled to the east. It had made enough of a difference in Paris and Turin. 

But it was easy to forget that when he was with Gellert. Gellert did not treat him differently in public, and when they were alone together, they were absolutely equals. The unending subtle condescension that Albus had become accustomed to as a Halfblood Slytherin – he had never felt that from Gellert. Gellert seemingly took Albus on his merits alone, and behaved in public as if everyone else did, too. That, together with the way that Gellert would sometimes tell Albus that he was the most brilliant and interesting and attractive man in any room, had led Albus to believe that Gellert’s adoration and exuberance had combined with his principles to make him forget, periodically, that not everyone saw Albus as Gellert did.  
The fact that Gellert had chosen not to tell him that he was essentially _royalty_ had made Albus doubt that. It now seemed possible that Gellert was not only aware of the difference in how they were perceived, but that their class difference was important to Gellert himself. That _Gellert_ might think of him as a curiosity. 

Faced with being the only Halfblood in a room full of Purebloods, it felt to Albus as if a great joke had been played on him – a joke that _everyone but him_ had been privy to. And this had not just damaged his confidence in his marriage, it had eroded the fragile trust he had had in their ‘mutual friends,’ as well.

“You’re right. I’m lost in my own head. It’s Aberforth. He has asked me to help arrange an internship for him at St. Mungo’s for this summer, but I’m not sure what to do about his living arrangements.”

“I’m sure that Sirius –“  
“No, thank you, Phineas, but I am not angling for an invitation. He is so ornery, I would not wish him on anyone I like. And anyone I dislike, I would not trust to care for him. And he is uncomfortable around unknown Wizards, thanks to having been famously politicized.”  
Phineas tipped his head, indicating that he took no offense at this censure of his father’s behaviour.

“So, you see my problem.”  
“Not entirely. Is he of age?”  
“He will be, before the school year ends.”  
“That’s easy, then. You find him his own flat.”  
“That still does not spare him –“  
“A _Muggle_ flat, somewhere within walking distance of St. Mungo’s.”  
That was exactly the conclusion Albus had come to the week before.

“Brilliant. I don’t suppose –“  
“That I’m a Muggle estate agent?” Phineas laughed.  
Albus laughed too.  
“But if he has such trouble around –“

Phineas did not have a chance to finish his thought – he was interrupted by a shout from the parlour.  
“Gellert von Grindelwald! You are -”  
The words became indistinct and far away, as if Gellert had thrown up a hasty privacy charm.  
“Shall we rescue him?” Phineas asked.

“Interesting that we both know that it is not Bozena who needs rescuing,” Albus said, taking a swallow of whiskey and setting it back down on the table, making no move to get up.

Phineas raised an eyebrow. “I take it that you know why Bozena is shouting, and that Gellert does not _deserve_ rescuing?”  
“Correct. But it would be a bit of a betrayal to tell you the story myself. Bozena will tell you after we have left, I’m sure. Suffice to say, Gellert was in the wrong, and I am not interested in the humiliation of the matter being spoken of when I am in the room.”

“But you seemed fine –“  
“Phineas.”  
"Were you _actually_ concerned about Aberforth? Or was this argument with Gellert -"  
"I was distracting myself with Aberforth very well, before your wife started shouting at my boyfriend."  
“I just thought we were friends enough –“  
“Even friends have secrets from one another. _It’s private._ I would be a bit disappointed in Gellert for sharing the story with Bozena, if I did not trust the two of you not to tell anyone else, and if I did not believe that Bozena was the one right person for him to tell.”

Phineas finished his whiskey, and Albus did the same.  
“Humiliating or not, I think we ought to go back, Albus.”  
Yes, Gellert was already unreasonably jealous this evening. Whatever injury Bozena was doing to him was not likely to improve his disposition.  
Albus stood up and waited for Phineas to exit the kitchen ahead of him.

Getting ready for bed that evening, Gellert was unusually silent. Even after getting into bed, he settled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling without a word. Albus began to feel impatient.  
“Gellert. You have had plenty of time to compose your thoughts. Now you’re just stalling. Whatever it is, tell me.”

“Telling you things, as Bozena has pointed out, is not one of my talents.”  
“Neither of us is particularly skilled in that area, no. But for once, I know for certain that you have something to say, and I would not know that if you were entirely resisting that idea.”

“I’m sorry, Albus. Just because I didn’t want it to matter... That didn’t change the fact that it _does_ matter, and by avoiding that, I was being dishonest with us both.”  
Albus didn’t have to ask what ‘it’ was.  
“It is embarrassing, now, that I thought it would be as simple as not telling you.”

“Stop. Gellert. I had it all wrong, before. It _doesn't_ matter. I was angry that you had kept something from me, and I didn’t understand exactly what I was angry about… Prince or not, the significant facts have not changed: you are a Pureblood and I’m not, your family is wealthy and mine is not, your father has a title and mine died in prison, your family name is famous all over Europe because of their long history of political and economic power whereas my family name is infamous in Britain - first because my father was a criminal, and since I've left, on account of us being seen as victims. All of those things I have known for a long time.  
“It’s really as simple as you not telling me. You didn’t tell me. There was no need not to tell me. So the fact that you _didn’t_ tell me… I started to worry that me being a Halfblood with no money mattered as much to you as it does to everyone else. But when I really think about it, I know that it doesn’t matter to you at all. The problem was the opposite: you needed for it not to matter.”

“ _Yes_ , I should have told you! I wish that I had. There was - even before we left Godric's Hollow, I had known for weeks that you loved me. You had learned about me being expelled, about the blood magic, about my parents kicking me out of the house… and _still_ you loved me. Why couldn't I have told you then? But even if I had waited until after leaving Britain… I told you about the visions before we made the pact… if I could tell you about the visions, I should have been able to tell you something that everyone else knows anyway.”  
At last. _This_ was the apology that Albus had needed.

“And it _does_ matter, Albus. Not just the part about me being from a wealthy Pureblood family. Your first instinct, that this _title_ means something – you were right. Bozena forced me to admit that my father does, in effect, rule Wizarding Bavaria. Formally, there are five families who are meant to govern by consensus, but – they all defer to my father. It’s uncanny. Honestly, now that I know about the Takvaldr, I suspect my father of using that on the heads of each of the other noble families. But perhaps that deference is simply… tradition. Perhaps it will be the same for Otto, and he is nothing like Father.” 

“Gellert –“  
“I’m almost done, Albus. I do want you to know that there is not just one reason I didn’t share it with you. It’s not just that I didn’t want it to change what you thought of me, or that I didn’t want the responsibility, or that I wanted it not to matter. It was – it matters _so much_ to Father. It is embarrassing. He thinks he should rule _all_ of Bavaria – not just the Wizards. He thinks that the International Statute of Secrecy stole power from my family wrongfully. He is still angry about some squib cousin of my seventh-great grandfather ‘replacing us on the throne.’ He gloats over the extinction of the _Muggle_ line of the Bavarian branch of House Wittelsbach _over one hundred years ago._ It is absurd! To acknowledge him as the Prince of Bavaria…”  
“Would have felt like validating all of his grandiose ideas?”  
“I’m sure that sounds like a terrible excuse.”  
“It sounds like an understandable, but insufficient reason.”

Albus straddled Gellert and looked down at him, at his uncertain frown, at the way he kept his eyes averted - he was feeling ashamed. This had gone on long enough. He could trust Gellert. It had been Gellert's own feelings about himself and his family - and his own insecurities about Albus' feelings for him - that had kept Gellert from telling Albus about Emmerich's position. It was not because of any doubts he had had about Albus.

“I forgive you, Gellert.”  
Gellert looked up. “You do?” he asked, anxiously. “Because last time –“  
“The day of the letter? I said that I was _capable_ of forgiving you. And I was certain I would eventually. Eventually is… right now. It’s done. I forgive you.”

“Merciful Freyja. I was so afraid that I had finally destroyed –“  
“Hey –“ Albus interrupted him, laying a hand on Gellert’s face and bending down to kiss him gently.  
“You could never _never_ destroy our marriage, Gellert. I think. That is, you love me, right?”  
“Of course!”  
“And you would never try to hurt me – on your own, I mean – excluding any… outside influence?”  
“Why would I -?”  
“ _Exactly_. Why would you? You wouldn’t. Stop doubting yourself.”

Albus kissed Gellert’s forehead, the tip of his nose, his lips. Then he rolled onto the bed beside Gellert and laid his head on Gellert’s chest.  
“Let’s have it. What else do I need to know?”  
“Umm – Bathilda is not actually my aunt. But she did ask me to call her ‘Aunt Bathilda.’ She considers me family, but there is no blood relation there. It was Mother’s idea to send me to stay with her in Godric’s Hollow.”  
“Noted.”  
“You’re not - ?”

“I’m neither angry nor surprised. It seemed likely, given all I’ve been learning lately. But I needed for you to be the one to tell me, so – I’m glad you did. And someday I’d like to hear the story about how your mother knows her –“  
“Bathilda would like to tell you herself, I think.”  
“ _Aunt_ Bathilda. You should continue to claim her – she’s better than family. Anything else?”

“Oh, Albus. This one is bad.”  
“It will be ok, I promise. Tell me.”  
Gellert took a deep breath, then another. Albus wondered if he should tell Gellert that it could wait... No, if it had been bothering him this much, it was more important for him to tell Albus now – otherwise it might be buried for another however many months.

“Lina, the girl who is betrothed to Otto? She told me that she loved me once, and I said, ‘I love you, too,’ _even though I didn’t_. I – panicked. I wasn’t prepared for her to say that to me. I am the most terrible person.”  
“That doesn’t make you a terrible person, Love. It does cast some light on Otto’s difficulties with her, however.”  
Gellert groaned.

“We can work it out later. If anything needs to be done about it at all, which – seems unlikely, really.”

“You’re not angry with me?”  
“I’m _surprised_. I didn’t know that it was possible for you to be taken off guard in that way. And I’m relieved that you told me after I’ve heard ‘I love you’ from you hundreds of times, instead of just a handful. But no, I’m not angry about Lina.  
“I _will_ , however, be very upset if you reflexively say, ‘I love you,’ to anyone but me in the future, even if you don’t mean it. That is, tell me if you do, immediately, so I don’t find out from someone else, but – don’t expect me to be so relaxed about it.”

“Albus, I would never –“  
“No, I’m not expecting you would. I’m just – letting you know, since telling Lina was, it seems, an accident. But no, I am not angry about Lina. What else?”  
“Nothing so big.”  
Albus waited. 

“Nothing so big. But there is a small thing that you are hesitating to share?”  
“It is just - the night before last, I had a dream.”  
“Ok –“  
“You were outside of the bookshop in Diagon Alley, and Phineas was there, and then you were behind a building with him. Your cock was in his mouth, and when you came, you started to call out my name, but you stopped yourself, and called out his name instead.”

Albus gripped Gellert’s shoulder tightly.  
“Oh, Gellert. No! How awful!”

“You had your hands in his hair. And the look on your face - it all felt so real. And I've known since then that we were only going to be seeing him because I insisted, and the two of you get along together, and he’s never, well, hurt you like I have...”  
“Well, so far you haven’t done any _permanent_ damage,” Albus answered, realizing too late that Gellert couldn’t see the gentle smile on his face as he said it.

“Albus –“  
“I'm sorry, Love, that was not funny. I'm not saying that it is ok that you have hurt me, but you have always tried your best to take care of me. And when you _do_ hurt me, it is usually because you are hurting more.  
"I love you, Gellert. You are mine. I don't want anyone else. I have absolutely no interest in Phineas. It has only ever been you. It will only ever be you.”  
Gellert shifted, and Albus rolled away, so that Gellert could curl up behind him and hold him. 

Even in this position, Albus was still being bombarded with a tense magical energy that was not his own. He took Gellert’s hand off of his hip and laid it on the bulge in his pants.  
“Albus?”  
“Please? Not if you don’t want to, but –“  
Albus felt Gellert’s cock waking up behind him.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes.”  
Gellert vanished Albus’ pants and his own.  
“Yes.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

It was not a week later when Hugo finally came to them with the news that Didi was ready to meet with them. He waited until they were finishing their breakfast.  
‘At the table!’ Hugo had begun insisting, as soon as the house was in order. ‘You have a table, now. You will not drop pastry crumbs in the bed like barbarians!’  
Albus had rather liked their casual breakfasts over the past year, but Hugo’s cooking made humouring him worthwhile.

“Didi is bringing another elf with him.”  
Gellert clenched his jaw but said nothing.  
“ _What_ other elf, Hugo?” Albus asked sharply. “I hope you have thought through –“  
“Fine. _Don’t_ trust my judgment. As if I cannot tell whether another elf is safe. You think you know better than me, at your age? Certainly, you have shown _impeccable_ concern for your personal safety recently. _‘What other elf?’_ You have the wit of pixie, and yet –“

“Enough!” Gellert roared.  
The look on Hugo’s face was one of defiance, but his ears were drooping.  
Gellert continued through gritted teeth. “If you were to stop and think about it, what Albus was _not_ so subtly asking was whether I would be too upset to _function_ when confronted with this particular elf. Given that your judgment in _that_ regard, at least, has been _lacking_ so far.”

Gellert stood up and stalked towards the door of the cottage. Albus hastily cast a tracking charm on him, but Gellert removed it perfunctorily with a single word. “No.”  
It was as Albus had feared. Gellert was heading for the apparition point.

“Well, Hugo?” Albus asked, his voice hard. “I suppose you thought Gellert would take it well, you dressing me down so thoroughly. He does have his limits, you know.”  
“Yes, I’m sure it had _nothing_ to do with _your_ insulting overprotectiveness.”

They sat silently regarding one another for a time. 

“He will want to hear her story, Albus.”  
“Will he, Hugo? I will not tolerate a story about yet another dead or injured house elf so soon.”

Hugo gripped his spoon tightly and beat it against the table several times before answering, “Now that I have my order, you will have to tell me if a broken heart counts as an injury… if an inability to adequately protect her Witch – if the death or injury of an elf’s beloved human contravenes your intentions.”  
Albus sighed and rubbed his face. “No, I suppose that will be… fine. Yes, why wouldn’t _that_ be fine? Gods, does it _never_ end?!”

Hugo was uncharacteristically silent.  
"It wasn't an order, Hugo. I didn't mean it to be, anyway."  
"You did."  
Yes, Albus had meant it as an order. Not consciously. Consciously, he had meant simply to express his displeasure with the way that Hugo had been treating Gellert's feelings about Zinnie, to make it clear that if Hugo could not be counted on to make good decisions, Albus would not hesitate to set some groundrules. It seemed his unconscious mind had revised that idea, replacing 'if' with 'since,' and striking 'not hesitate to.'

Hugo continued, “What I had been about to say, before you interrupted me with your impertinent question, was that Didi’s friend is in service, unlike Didi, and so cannot guarantee a time of arrival – only that she intends for it to be between breakfast and lunch.”  
“And you think that Gellert needs to meet her personally.”  
“He is the one who asked for the information, Albus. I would not be fulfilling my commitment if he were not here.”

Not fulfilling his commitment. For all the stars…  
Taking on Hugo had simply been trading one problem for another. Whatever he conceived of his duties towards Gellert entailing, Hugo did not seem to be at all _committed_ to treating him with gentleness.

“Hugo. Go to _Löwenzahn_ when our guests arrive, so that _he_ may find and retrieve Gellert, if Löwenzahn is not otherwise occupied. If he is not available you are to _come to me for further instructions _. I don’t know that Gellert will be happy to see you.”  
“Yes, Master Albus,” Hugo answered with a deep obsequious bow.__

Albus sighed. “Fine. Have it your way. 'Thank you for talking to Didi. I’m sure this other elf will be fine.' Et cetera. 'We adore you, we chose you, we like it when you give us a hard time,' and other such customary but sincere flatteries. Just – _know your limits_. Know _our_ limits. And no, that's not a fucking order, as if I could order insightfulness.  
"For my part, I will do my best not to be – insultingly overprotective? I think you said? But I would have you remember that Gellert is not made of stone.”

Albus stood. “I’ll be outside, when your mysterious house elf arrives.”  
On the other side of the door, the rain was falling, but not heavily enough to entice him to turn back around.

Albus was peering into a mousehole when he heard Gellert’s voice.  
“Kätzchen,” was all he said.  
The lynx bounded towards him, and Gellert laughed.  
“Oh no, you don’t!” Gellert said fondly.  
The lynx tipped his head inquisitively. Gellert cast an impervious shield over him, followed by a drying charm and a warming charm.  
“Come on, then.”

The lynx trotted the rest of the way and laid his head in Gellert’s lap. Gellert had cast a dome over himself – underneath, it was dry and warm and pleasant. Gellert scratched behind the lynx’s ears, and he shut his eyes and purred happily before transforming back. Gellert moved seamlessly to playing with Albus’ hair. “You have beautiful hair, you know? I do not tell you often enough.”  
Albus hummed, but said nothing. 

“You do not need to treat me like a broken thing, Albus,” Gellert continued. “You and Hugo have put me back together well enough to meet a new house elf, anyway. Particularly if it is not a Grindelwald elf, and I have been thinking about it – Hugo would never risk such a thing.”  
Wouldn’t he though? Albus was feeling less like trusting Hugo in that moment than it seemed Gellert was willing to do.

“I’m sorry, Love. It’s just, last time –“  
Now, whenever Hugo spoke of other elves, or of contracts for that matter, Albus’ thoughts were dragged to Gellert shaking in his arms, his rage and grief flooding the room. 

Neither of them said more. Albus allowed himself to sink into Gellert’s reassuring presence. Albus knew now that Gellert would always come back when he walked away, but he could not predict the state in which Gellert would return. That Gellert would feel like touching him right away like this had not been guaranteed. 

Albus had nearly dozed off when Löwenzahn popped into view.  
“The elf guests are ready for Master Gellert,” he said in a quiet voice.  
Albus sat up and smiled softly. He imagined that Hugo had told Löwenzahn all about the argument, and that was making him more hesitant than usual.

“Thank you, Löwenzahn. You can return to Otto, now.”  
“Löwenzahn cannot. The Durmstrang wards…” he complained.  
Right. Otto was at school.

“Would you like to stay, then?”  
“No,” Löwenzahn answered, “Possibly Löwenzahn is bound to tell Master Otto. Löwenzahn waits, tells Master Otto when Master Otto needs to know. Löwenzahn returns and tends to Mistress.”

“Thank you, Löwenzahn,” Gellert said, his voice tight, “for watching over Mother.”  
Albus wondered at that. He knew so little about Gellert’s mother. But there were guests in the cottage, and it would not do to keep them waiting, simply so that Albus could ask Gellert questions that he could answer at any time. 

The elves were in the living-room.  
“Master Albus and Master Gellert, allow me to present Didi and Hajni.”

Albus looked sharply at Hugo, and Hugo tipped his head towards the other elves. Ah. ‘Master’ was not a jab at Gellert and himself – it was an adjustment for the other elves.  
Albus nodded at Hugo, doing his best to allow his gratitude to surface on his face. Hugo had made a good compromise – he was being more deferential than usual, but not sacrificing his insistence on speaking the English of an intelligent Wizard.

“Thank you, Hugo,” Albus answered. “Gellert?”  
Gellert looked at him.  
‘You take the lead, Love. Consulting Didi was your idea. And you will do a better job making them comfortable. I’m likely to do something stupid, like offer them a chair.’  
Albus could tell by the way Gellert was holding his jaw that he was trying not to laugh.  
‘You would not, Albus! You can handle elves perfectly well.’

‘I can handle _Löwenzahn and Thorn_ perfectly well, and Hugo with some difficulty. But what if this new elf is more typical? I might slip up and ask for their opinion - and then what might happen? We can't have someone else's elf braining themselves because they fainted in our living room!’  
Gellert turned away, composing himself, before giving his attention to the visiting elves.  
“Didi. Hajni. Thank you both for coming,” Gellert began in German. 

Hugo’s German was still not very good, which puzzled Albus, because Hugo was generally good at everything, and while it was likely that he had had no occasion to have learned it before, he had every reason to do so now, when he was as good as Gellert’s elf, too. But Albus had not asked about it. It was too easy to inadvertently antagonize the elf.

Gellert, for his part, would engage in teasing arguments with Hugo, throwing in German words that he had never yet used in front of Hugo, and winking at him as he popped away sputtering, most likely to consult a dictionary. In other words, Gellert was well aware of Hugo’s weak grasp of German, and this made Albus wonder at what he was doing. Surely Emmerich would not have sent an elf to spy on them who spoke neither English nor French? 

“Thank you for coming, Didi. I was hoping you would come see me. I was surprised, however, when Hugo informed us this morning that you were bringing another elf with you.”  
“Didi is sorry, Master Gellert.”  
“There is no need to apologize. I imagine you had a very good reason. And – I am no longer your master, I believe?”  
“No, Master Gellert. But Didi chooses to call Master Gellert ‘Master,’ if Master Gellert allows it?”  
“I would be honoured. I have many questions for you, but perhaps you will first introduce your friend? Hajni is not a German name… Hungarian? Perhaps?”  
Hajni smiled beatifically at the recognition and curtseyed.  
“Hajni is an elf of House Kiraly, Master Gellert. Hajni does not speak English. Didi thanks Master Gellert for his cleverness and consideration. Master is unchanged in his regard for elves, if Didi may say so.”

Everyone stood silently for a moment, while Didi pulled at an ear, as if he only realized after the words left his mouth that that had not been the right thing to say.

Albus made his way to a chair.  
“Now that we’ve been introduced,” Albus said, breaking the silence, “Perhaps you would like to take a seat, Gellert?”

Gellert nodded and sat on the sofa. He looked longingly at Albus.  
‘No, Love. We know nothing of this Hajni. We should wait before showing affection in front of her. I love you. I’ll show you just how much after they leave, in whatever way you want.’  
Gellert raised an eyebrow, ‘Whatever I want?’  
‘Perhaps I should have set some limits…’  
A hungry look crossed Gellert’s face for just a moment.  
‘And yet, you did not.’  
No, because Albus had suspected that setting no limits would provide a sufficient distraction to reset Gellert’s mood.

Gellert turned to Didi.  
“Thank you, Didi. That was kind of you. Hajni – I would like to learn more about you in a moment, but I do have some business with Didi. Didi, will you be able to stay after Hajni has shared whatever she has come here for? I would speak with you further, but I understand that Hajni might be called away at any time.”  
“Yes, Master Gellert. Didi stays as long as Master Gellert likes.”

“Very well. Hajni, how has it come to pass that you are in my living room?”  
Hajni twisted her hands and looked down at the floor. Didi reached out to her, but then looked warily at Gellert.  
“Master Gellert allows…? Didi comforts Hajni?”  
“Yes, Didi. You do not need permission from me to care for another elf, so long as no harm comes to anyone I care about as a result.”

“Or yourself,” Albus hissed angrily.  
“That’s _implied _,” Gellert whispered. “I care about myself, obviously.”  
Oh yes. _Obviously_. After all, it had been almost _two days_ since Gellert had last suggested that his very existence was a burden on Albus, Otto, and perhaps all Wizardkind.__

Meanwhile, Didi had his arm around Hajni, and was whispering in her ear.  
Albus turned back to look at Gellert and found Hugo standing not six inches from his face.

“Hugo, I apologize –“ Albus whispered.  
“Not now,” Hugo whispered back. “Your husband, the one who is ‘not made of stone?’ Sit with him. There would be no advantage to Hajni using any knowledge of your relationship to cause either of you harm.”

“You are certain, Hugo? If it becomes common knowledge…”  
“Elves are generally disinclined to share any other Wizard’s personal information with their masters, unless they have been specifically ordered to do so. And most masters do a poor job wording such commands. Didi was forced to share information about you and Gellert only because of Emmerich’s detailed commands, and even then, he was able to evade sharing certain information.”  
Albus nodded. “Thank you, Hugo. You’re a good elf.”  
Hugo rolled his eyes. 

When Hajni’s sniffles began to subside, Albus asked, “Hajni, if I were to do something such as… sit very close to Gellert and hold his hand – would you tell any other Witch or Wizard, or another elf that was obliged to tell another Witch or Wizard?”  
“N-no, Mr. Albus. Hajni h-hates Emmerich. Hajni helps young Master Gellert, always.”  
Albus looked at Hugo, and Hugo nodded. As Albus got out of his chair, Gellert caught his eye.  
‘This does not change that I get whatever I want later. That agreement predated –‘  
‘Whatever you want,’ Albus affirmed.  
He bent down to kiss Gellert on the tip of his nose before sitting beside him, throwing an arm around him and pulling him close. 

Hajni, for her part, took Didi’s hand, lifted her chin, and began, “Before Emmerich marries Lady Beatrisa Sterntal, Emmerich marries Mistress Katalin Kiraly. Mistress Katalin knows Emmerich’s secret, so Mistress dies. Mistress dies and Baby Grindelwald not born dies. Emmerich is –“ She broke off and looked at Didi, who nodded at her. She returned her gaze to Gellert, who was leaning forward slightly. “Emmerich is stupid. Emmerich does not know about elves. Mistress dies, and Hajni does not belong to House Grindelwald. Hajni is a Kiraly elf, so Hajni returns to House Kiraly. No one asks Hajni, ‘does Emmerich kill Mistress Katalin?’ But Mistress tells Hajni, ‘never tell my family,’ so no one asks is good, Hajni thinks.”

“But – you _can_ tell _me_?” Gellert asked.  
“Master Gellert is not Mistress Katalin’s family. Grindelwald kills Mistress Katalin. Murder means Mistress is no Grindelwald now.”

“I’m so sorry, Hajni,” Albus said.  
Hajni averted her eyes and curtseyed almost imperceptibly.  
“Mistress Katalin dies long ago,” she answered in a quiet voice.  
That might be, but Albus imagined that an elf might never fully recover from not being capable of protecting her mistress from an early death. 

“You wish to tell me - ?” Gellert prompted.  
“Emmerich is not Emmerich,” Hajni whispered. “Emmerich is the soul host. Not Emmerich is Leopold Ferdinand, son of Maximilian II Emanuel. Not Emmerich is 311 years old.”

“He’s not –“ Gellert protested, “He – Father was born in 18… 1848. He can’t be – he – No. Gods. The ritual! No no no... Leopold Ferdinand... my father said we were _descended_ from Leopold Ferdinand.”

Albus interrupted, “Leopold Ferdinand?”  
“The eldest son of Maximilian II Emanuel, the last Wizarding Prince Elector of Bavaria. When the Statute of Secrecy… Never mind. I can tell you later?”  
Albus was torn. There was a lot he was missing here, but he knew that Hajni could disappear at any moment.  
“Later,” he agreed. 

Albus looked from Gellert to Hajni. “I apologize. Please continue.”  
Hajni blushed. She was probably not used to being apologized to.  
“Yes. Hajni continues. Thank you, Mr. Dumbledore. Emmerich is born Emmerich. Leopold dislodges Emmerich’s soul later. Leopold is Emmerich now.”  
“Why would anyone – “ Albus began.  
“Living forever, never dying,” Gellert muttered. “Who _am_ I?” he added, in a horrified whisper.

Albus held Gellert to him still more tightly and rested his other hand on Gellert’s leg.  
“I love you,” Albus reminded him, switching to English. “You know who you are. You are Otto’s brother and my husband and Wolf’s friend. You are brilliant and powerful. Nothing we learn will change that you are still the man that I fell in love with, Gellert. We will get through this, too, together.”

“But my father – he’s not my father at all? Or he is, but... Albus, this can’t be true.”  
“Perhaps not. She may believe it and be wrong.”  
“But what if she is right?”  
“We do not have enough information, Liebling. For now, we keep listening. We can wait to decide.”

AD/GG/AD/GG/AD/GG

“Harder!” Gellert demanded.  
If Albus had had a thought in his head, he would have sworn that he was already driving into Gellert with as much force as he could, but Gellert’s cries provoked him to slam into him violently. He bit Gellert’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood, startling himself and causing Gellert to shout, “Yes! Gods!”  
The taste of Gellert’s blood made Albus come, and Gellert joined him.

Albus collapsed onto Gellert, flattening him onto the ground.  
“Fuck,” Albus gasped, “Fuck… Gellert, I… gods, I… hurt you.”  
Gellert replied only with a drawn out wordless groan.  
Albus pushed himself up enough to let Gellert breathe and began to pull out slowly.  
“No, Albus,” Gellert protested. “Stay -”  
Albus stilled and leaned his forehead against Gellert’s back.  
“I’m staying _with_ you. Just not _in_ you.”

Albus finished pulling out and fell heavily onto the forest floor. The leaves were beautiful. Yellow and orange and red. There was blood drying on his hands and his face from the red deer laying some 50 feet away. A female – he hadn’t wanted to risk the antlers or the greater strength of one of the larger males. Taking down an animal this large had been exhilarating, but also at the very limits of his capabilities.  
There was a small amount of blood on his cock as well, and while it had happened enough times before that he knew so little blood was no indicator of having done Gellert serious harm, it still bothered him to see it.

Albus cast a quick Scourgify. He rolled onto his side to look at Gellert, whose face was turned towards him, smiling.  
Albus laid his hand on Gellert’s hip with the intent of whispering a healing spell.  
Gellert interrupted him.  
“Don’t, Albus. You didn’t do any damage. It hurts just the right amount.”  
Albus sighed and lightly swatted Gellert’s arse.  
“Very well. You can ache all the way through tomorrow morning if you want, but let me heal your shoulder at least.”  
“Fine, yes,” Gellert conceded, so Albus came to him and licked closed the wound on his shoulder. Albus moaned at the taste of Gellert’s blood.  
Gellert hummed happily. 

They could not stay long – the deer would soon draw scavengers – perhaps even wolves.  
As if he knew what Albus was thinking, Gellert murmured sleepily, “You’re a Wizard. Remember?”  
It was not as if Albus was much interested in moving either. His head was resting on one arm, his other arm draped across Gellert’s back. Gellert was close enough to taste and smell.  
Gellert shifted, pressing his body against Albus’ and releasing a happy sigh.  
Albus smiled. It had been a difficult day. He could not begrudge Gellert his escape into unconsciousness. 

Albus called the Wand to him and set wards all around, uncrossable by anything that might be a danger to them. He added a complicated warming charm that would adjust as their bodies needed – just now, Albus was still too warm, but he knew that wouldn’t last long in late October.  
“I love you,” he whispered, as he drew his sleeping husband back into his arms. “I love you forever.”

After the elves had left, Gellert had apparated them to France, just outside the boundaries of Jean Pierre’s grandfather’s vineyard.  
“Why are we here?” Albus had asked, puzzled.  
“There are deer to the west, I think,” Gellert had answered, before turning into a raven. 

Albus became an owl and followed him, over fields and into a forest, flying through the trees until they found the deer that Gellert had predicted would be there. Apparently Gellert was taking Albus’ open ended offer as an opportunity to finally act on his fantasy of watching Albus hunt. 

The moment Albus had transformed back from his lynx form, Gellert had tackled him to the ground, and they had wrestled for dominance. Albus had been sure to win that battle, still half in his animal brain after the intensity of the kill. Which, it seemed, was exactly what Gellert had wanted.  
Albus managed to overcome his need to possess Gellert immediately just enough to remind himself to prepare Gellert properly, but before Albus’ fingers had reached Gellert’s hole, the impatient younger Wizard had cast a too-fast stretching spell and a lubrication charm.  
“Fuck me now, by all the gods,” Gellert had growled at him.

Albus had to agree that tearing apart an animal larger than he was and then fucking Gellert into oblivion had been the best possible response to all that they had learned that day. Or, would have to agree later. In the moment, all that he was thinking was, ‘Gods, fuck, yes, mine.’ With a brief reservation: “Still. Too. Tight. Gellert!”  
Not that it didn’t feel amazing, but he had a dim notion that it had to be painful for Gellert.  
“No, I’m not,” Gellert had answered, reaching behind him to grip Albus’ thigh and pull him closer. “Give me more.”  
After that… Albus couldn’t begin to say what had happened after that. Only that it had been fast, and feral, and like nothing they had done before.

Albus wasn't sure that anything they'd done since arriving in France had been sane, but it had all been cathartic, and given that sanity did not seem to be an option in any case, Albus wasn't second guessing it.

Didi had not left until the early afternoon. He had been astonishingly creative in getting around the constraints governing what house elves could share about what they had learned in the service of former masters – constraints that were not lifted even when the master had been the one to breach their contract. The sheer volume of information was too much to process directly after the meeting, independent of the urgency of the dire news.

But talking about it could not wait much longer. They had barely started planning the dual casting ritual, and now they needed to plan a second ritual, also to be performed before Yule. The violence that Gellert had suffered had not been wanton, but calculated – the damage that his father had done put him at risk. For once, they were going to have to plan, prepare, and execute a ritual that Gellert had _not_ given any prior thought to, and on incredibly short notice. Albus could tell that Gellert was not sure if it could be done.

Albus had managed to forget the danger as he stalked and tore and bit and killed, as he took Gellert apart under the trees. But now, holding Gellert’s sleeping form, he was more afraid than he had ever been before. They had so little time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FWIW – I had ‘Closer’ (by Nine Inch Nails) on repeat in my head as I was thinking about and writing the sex scene there at the end. When I listened to it IRL, I realized that the version in my head runs about 15 bpm faster. FWIW
> 
> I have cleaned up the Discord server for this fic! And I am actually doing things over there now! Like posting pictures of places Albus and Gellert have been and soliciting requests and recommendations. Etc.  
> You are welcome to join: <https://discord.gg/Jtp7fCx>
> 
> Oh, and how could I forget language notes?  
> So guess what words I had not looked up for era appropriateness? Both ‘hot’ and ‘sexy.’ Neither of which were in use at the time apparently. (Hot: 1926 (U.S.); Sexy: 1912 (also U.S. – doesn’t hit Britain until 1932, maybe))  
> Well, I mean, ‘hot’ was in use, obviously - but not as a synonym for ‘sexy.’ (Not that they are synonyms, strictly speaking, but nearly so.) And ‘sexy’ was in use at the time, but only to refer to pornographic material – not to persons.  
> After some consideration, I am (gasp!) retaining the anachronism - there simply is not another word that was in use at the time that carries the same connotations, including (but not limited to) the informality and specificity of those 2 words.


	48. Accidental Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the dual casting ritual less than a week away, Gellert goes to great lengths to persuade Albus to face his fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a note apologizing that this chapter is so short. But then it went from 4300 words to 5000 words, and then to 5800 words, and so on, until now, as I write this, it is 8656 words. When I saw the new word count I remembered, ‘Yes, revision. This is how it happens.’

Chapter 44  
November 1900

There was no better place to duel, Albus thought, than on their island. There were no natural rock formations large enough to hide behind – only a segment of an old stone wall and the pile of stones remaining from Gellert’s demolition of the third cottage. Otherwise, the line of sight was unbroken, requiring them to cast without cover. 

The terrain was more difficult than it first appeared – even where the ground appeared to be level, the surface was fiendishly uneven. The grass smoothed over hidden elevation changes and became slippery when the air was wet, which was almost always. The rocks were more slippery still and were ringed round with loose pebbles. Every move required attention and balance.

But the biggest appeal of duelling here was that they would never be interrupted or discovered. Which meant that their every duel was free to… come to its natural conclusion.

Gellert’s arm slipped off Albus’ chest, and his handsome face came between Albus and his view of the white-grey sky.  
“We cannot lie here all morning.”

“Yes, we can,” Albus answered. “I can think just fine, lying here with you.”  
Gellert bent down and kissed Albus.  
“ _You_ could think just fine trapped in a box with a parrot. That is no recommendation.”  
“Why a parrot?”  
Gellert laughed. “I love you.”

Gellert stood and extended a hand to Albus. When Albus stood, Gellert pulled him close and resumed kissing him. Albus grabbed Gellert’s arse and Gellert broke the kiss, looking a bit embarrassed, as he did when he was about to cut short something that he himself had initiated.  
Albus could not resist teasing him.  
“If we were going to keep kissing, Angel, then why could we not continue to lie down?”  
“Ah – the kissing was accidental. I was not supposed to… We were meant to be standing and then putting on our trousers.”  
“I see,” Albus said, smiling. “And after the trousers?”  
“Walking to our workshop, where I believe there will be tea and scones waiting in the library.”

It had not been long before the second cottage had been expanded far beyond a potions laboratory. The front door now opened into a hallway, dividing the laboratory from a library. Upstairs was a space in which to practice duelling.  
The library contained not only their books but a large table (dedicated at the moment to their work on the two necessary rituals) and a sofa in front of a fireplace. Gellert had been the one who had first started calling the second cottage their ‘workshop,’ pointing out that most of their time there was spent working on something other than potions. 

The library was Albus’ favourite space, but the carefully warded and expanded room on the floor above was by far the most interesting. Usually, one or the other of them would divide the space into a number of smaller rooms, forcing them to duel at close quarters – going from one room to the next blindly searching for their opponent. That had been a common style of practical exam at Durmstrang, and Albus had to admit that that was more realistic than the way duelling had been taught at Hogwarts, as if one would only find oneself in a duel in a formal competition.

Over the past week, Gellert had changed tactics, extending the space much more than they had before, and replicating parts of the interior of his childhood home. (A castle! Albus was not sure how to feel about his suspicions on this count being vindicated.) Gellert had finally been persuaded that he ought not to return to his family for the day of the Yule ritual. Albus had been hopeful that they could engineer Emmerich’s death from afar (Leopold? Emmerich?), and so keep Gellert out of harm’s way altogether, but none of his ideas to that end made it very far before meeting some insurmountable obstacle. He had been forced to admit that Gellert was correct that any confrontation with the muckworm would most likely need to take place in person, on the ‘Grindelwald Estate.’ Gellert insisted, therefore, that Albus become familiar with how to navigate through – and fight in - some of the likeliest areas.  
‘If we prepare sufficiently,’ Gellert had contended, ‘ _you_ will have the greatest advantage, because his defences against you will be predicated on your unfamiliarity with the castle.’  
Albus could not agree that it would give him an advantage, but it would put him at less of a disadvantage, and it gave Gellert a sense of control over the situation, so Albus practiced without complaint.

Now that Albus thought of it, it was odd that they had duelled outside today. He _preferred_ duelling outside – it was more relaxing, less like a drill – but they hadn’t duelled _just for fun_ in two weeks. In fact, they had been duelling ‘in the castle’ _every day_ since meeting with Didi and Hajni.  
Albus began to become suspicious.

“What kind of scones?” he asked lightly.  
Gellert bit his lip. “Chocolate-glazed cherry walnut scones,” he said, nonchalantly. Albus was not fooled.  
“I suspect that it is no accident that Hugo made my favourite scones twice in one week?”  
“Hmm… Perhaps you would like me to tell him that he is making them too often?“  
“Don’t you dare!” Albus protested. He quickly kissed Gellert on the lips. “I had better get dressed and see what you want from me, then.”

Whatever Gellert had planned must have been something he thought Albus would resist initially – duelling, sex, his favourite scones, butter beer (before lunch?!), a fire in the fireplace… Gellert needed him in a good mood for some reason. Albus thought he may as well help him along. He vanished the crumbs from his trousers and snuggled into Gellert’s side. Gellert wrapped his arm around Albus.

“Ok, you Hinkypink, ask me.”  
“It is two things, actually.”  
“Oh, _two_ things, is it? No, I think that you will have to do this all over again tomorrow. One request a day.”  
“Perhaps… only one and a half things.”  
Albus laughed. 

“You, Raven, are lucky that I am in love with you, and find this idiocy charming. Your half request had better be easy. Or enjoyable.”  
“Constantinople. That was… seven months ago?”  
“Six roughly, though we were there for a while. It depends - ”  
“I still have not seen your magic. And it might be important –“

“For the dual casting, yes. That is _less_ than half a request, Gellert. It is easier than ever, truthfully. All of the trouble you went to, creating that window for me, and it seems that the Wand makes it possible to see another person's threads. At least, I was able to see yours, and I imagine you will be able to see mine as well.”

“You – it does?” Gellert pulled away from Albus a little and looked at him carefully. “When did you…?”  
“When we made the platform. I didn’t just combine our magic, I saw –“  
“You _saw_ our magic combining?!”  
“Yes. And as you would be looking only, without one of us constructing some monument, it should be possible for you to see my magic easily, without either of us nearly killing ourselves,” Albus said with a laugh.  
Gellert frowned. 

“Albus. It was a long wait for you to wake up.”  
“I’m sorry, Love. I shouldn’t have – I only mean – yes, it should be easy. The difficult part was tying my magic to yours, thread by thread, not –“  
“That’s what you did? Albus! You _bound_ our magic together? Into one...“  
Gellert straddled Albus’ lap and looked at him hungrily.  
“Tell me.“

“I saw –“ Albus began.  
It was hard to speak with Gellert so close, looking at him like he was a meal.  
“I saw your threads, and mine, and – “  
“And you picked them out individually?”  
“I – yes. Eventually. First, I poured all of my magic into you, but then I twisted the individual threads together, so that the threads became cords, each with at least one of my threads and at least one of yours. It required choosing which threads of mine would best enhance or reinforce each of your threads, while still making sure that the diversity of the threads was preserved, or in this case increased, so that the character of your magic - “

Gellert’s mouth descended on Albus’, devouring whatever words he had been about to say next. Too soon, he pulled back and looked Albus in the eyes. He appeared awestruck, too overwhelmed to speak. For a moment, Albus thought that he might instead invite him in to read what he was thinking, but Gellert returned to kissing Albus, both hands in his hair, as if he would be lost if he let go.  
When Albus spelled off Gellert’s waistcoat and began unbuttoning his shirt, Gellert pulled away again.

“I love you, so much. I wish we could, Albus, but –“  
“I know.”  
Gellert had been so focused on research and meditation and experimenting over the past few days that he had scolded Albus for being ‘too distracting’ more than once – and he had _not_ been teasing.  
“Besides, after spending so much of the morning getting me into the perfect mood, it is probably for the best that you ask me whatever it is that you have been building up to all this time.”

Gellert stood. That seemed a bad sign, that he couldn’t say whatever it was while still on Albus’ lap.  
“The full moon is in five days –“  
“Do you think we will be ready?”  
“I’m – not sure.“  
So. Gellert’s second request had to do with the dual-casting ritual as well. Why, then, was he hesitating, when they had so little time?

“Love? It can’t be that you think I will say ‘no,’ no matter what you ask.”  
“That’s the problem, Albus. I _have_ asked, more than once, and fine, you never say ‘no’ but you always say ‘later,’ and – it is time. I –“ Gellert sighed, already sounding defeated. “I want you to tell me about your mother.”

Albus froze. He felt like running, but his legs wouldn’t move. His mouth wouldn’t move either. Gellert was waiting for an answer and Albus didn’t have one. Except… later.

“We’re so busy, Gellert. Surely we don’t have time for this conversation now.”  
“Albus –“  
“If this is about the Legilimency sex –“  
“You _know_ it’s not.”  
Albus did know. For some reason, Gellert thought this was important for the ritual. Otherwise, he would not be putting either of them through this now.

“Do I have to _tell_ you? Can’t you just – look for it? Without – you know.”  
Gellert sat back down on the sofa and took Albus’ hand.  
“Albus. No, Liebling. You need to tell me in your own words, and we need to talk about it, together.”  
Why was Gellert pushing this?

“I don’t see why. You can look, and then _you_ can tell _me_ the story. I – I trust you to know, but I can’t say it out loud, Gellert.”  
“Albus – “  
Albus leapt up.  
“I can’t, ok?! Yes, Ariana killed Mother. There was accidental magic and – and Mother died. That’s all – no, Gellert. I want you to know, yes. But _I can’t tell you._ ”

Gellert regarded Albus silently.  
Finally, he spoke. “Is it that you do you not know? If I were to press you – for instance, if I were to begin by asking you where you were when it happened, you would say -”  
His mother, looking at him, fear on her face… simply watching as she –  
Albus shook his head, wrapped his arms around his stomach as if he had been punched.  
“Gellert, please.”  
Gellert looked at the floor for a moment, pulling his hair back and twisting it. Then suddenly, he sat up straight and looked Albus in the eyes.  
“Yes, ok Liebling.” He stood and began walking out the door. He called over his shoulder, “Come with me.”

Albus followed Gellert upstairs and into a bedroom Albus had not seen before.  
“Is this…?”  
“Mine? Yes. Lie down with me.”

In spite of the invitation, Albus remained standing, transfixed by what Gellert had achieved. His earlier efforts had all been utilitarian – just enough detail to ensure that Albus would recognize each room and how it connected to the next if he were to see it again. But this room – there was a tortoise shell inlay on the wardrobe, depicting what looked like a hunting scene, and the curtains were red and gold brocade, held back with thick silk cords. For a moment, Albus imagined what they would look like wrapped around Gellert’s wrists. He shook that thought out of his head. Gellert would not be allowing that today.  
He turned his attention to the stunning fireplace with its red tile facing, framed on each side with marble panels carved with grape vines. Above them stretched a frieze on which two marble lions wrestled one another. Albus wondered how much time Gellert had spent, as a child, studying that fireplace.  
Albus looked at the floor. Did the intricate border on the carpet continue under the bed, where Gellert couldn’t see it? Albus didn’t need to look to know the answer. Gellert was likely to have been under the bed several times when he was small, and with his visual memory...

“Albus, Love.”

Perhaps it was comforting? To have it exactly right? Perhaps he couldn’t help it, because it was so fixed in his memory?  
There was a mirror on the wall, next to the door. Albus wondered if it was a magical mirror, in Gellert’s real room. Transfiguring detailed animated objects was very difficult, not that Gellert wasn't capable of that, but it seemed unlikely that he would have bothered in this case. But then, he _had_ bothered to animate the lions…

Gellert took hold of his shoulder.  
“Come back to me, Albus.”

“Gellert?”  
“I have been calling you. Where have you been, Liebling?”  
“Just – exploring your room.”  
“Hmmm. I see. Well, I can answer any questions you have in a little while, but first, we need to talk. Come to bed with me.”

Albus reluctantly turned his attention to the bed. He climbed onto it and lay on top of the covers, still clothed. Gellert lay down on his side facing Albus.  
“Good. Like this.”  
Gellert laid his hand on Albus’ cheek. 

“Gellert, I don’t know if I can –“  
“You don’t have to do anything, Love. As long as you relax and don’t fight me, I can find it.”  
Gellert kissed Albus’ forehead.  
“I love you, Albus. No matter what I see, I love you. Full access?”

Albus was not sure he had done anything more frightening in his life than what Gellert was proposing. 

“Perhaps it would be better simply to tell you the story, after all.”  
“Ok.”  
Gellert had given in too easily. Albus narrowed his eyes.  
“You did that on purpose. You knew I would –“

Gellert’s face fell. He didn’t raise his voice and fight back; he just looked at Albus, exhausted.  
“I have no idea what you will choose to do, Albus. We first argued over whether you would let me read you freely almost nine months ago. And it was more than sixteen months ago that I first asked you to tell me this story.”  
“I don’t remember that.”  
“ _What_ don’t you remember? Which one?”  
Grein, Albus remembered. Gellert had accused Albus of not trusting him. Which… he was finally having to admit was accurate. How did Gellert live with him? Gellert had risked so much, shared so much with Albus. Aside from –

“Gellert?”  
“Albus,” Gellert responded, finally sounding impatient. “ _Which one?_ “  
“I promise I’ll answer in a moment. I will - next thing. But I have to know - when I was reading you? At Wolf’s house? Were you afraid I would find out about – “  
All at once, Albus felt awkward asking. ‘Prince of Bavaria’ carried a different meaning, after all that they had learned about… the Wizard who had become more difficult to name. But Gellert was waiting for him to finish.  
“- the, ah… the title?”  
“No,” Gellert sighed. “No, I had hoped that you _would_ find it, so that it could stop being a secret without me having to tell you. That would have been a far better thing for you to find than…”

Gellert trailed off, leaving Albus to wonder what Albus had seen that Gellert most wished he hadn’t. Misha, probably. Albus wondered what would have happened if he had found Zinnie’s death that day. It wasn’t likely that he would have, given what he was looking for, but…

Gellert had opened the door for Albus to see any of it. He had meant it when he’d said that he trusted Albus, that he knew what he was risking. 

“I - the conversation in Grein, I do remember that one. I remember you saying that I wouldn’t have – you were right. I didn’t agree at the time, but… But Gellert, it’s not just about trusting you. It is because these stories… I’m not like you, Gellert. I can’t –  
“No, it doesn’t matter. You asked a question. What I don’t remember is the first time you asked me to tell you about Mother. You said sixteen months?” They had met the second week of June… “Gods! How long had we known one another?”

Gellert lowered his eyes and picked at the bedspread.  
“It was foolish. I hadn’t realized how you – it was the first day we met. I could see that you were guarded, that you were unlikely to tell _anyone_ , but I wanted you to know that I was safe to tell. I said – I told you that you seemed like the sort of person who doesn’t share their stories easily.” Gellert laughed bitterly. “Not easily… I had no idea.”

Albus remembered so little about that conversation, the afternoon they had walked out from Bathilda’s cottage with a basket of scones. He remembered crying on Gellert’s shoulder - that had been mortifying. He remembered being annoyed to be out in the open, because he couldn’t touch Gellert for fear of being seen.

“I don’t remember that at all.“  
“And then I said that I wanted to be the person that you tell things to. And you told me – you said that you would tell me ‘later.’”

“Oh, Gellert!”

Gellert had been waiting the entire time that they had been together for Albus to trust him with this particular story. Gellert had loved him from before the very beginning – that, Albus had known for a long time. But he was still learning what Gellert had meant by that.

It was easy to remember their first kiss, how hungry Gellert was for him, how all of Albus’ resistance melted away the moment Gellert’s lips touched his. Albus could still hear the appreciative noises Gellert made as he opened his mouth for Gellert’s tongue to enter, as Albus’ hands roamed over Gellert’s back and through his hair. He remembered groaning as Gellert pressed his thigh between Albus’ legs, remembered grinding against him, having gone from completely inexperienced to shameless in less than ten minutes.  
It was easy, thinking of how quickly that kiss had escalated, to believe that surrendering to Gellert had been natural, inevitable. But Albus had held a great deal back – was still holding back. Gellert had not asked for Albus to share just his body that day, nor just his time. He had asked for Albus to share his fear, his pain, his story – and that, Albus had forgotten. Had perhaps _purposefully_ failed to register.

“And I still – Albus, I love you. I have _never_ stopped wanting to be the person that you tell.”

No, Gellert had never stopped, Albus could see that now. They had had this conversation so many times. Like on Albus’ 18th birthday, in Paris, when Gellert had said that he wanted to know Albus’ every fear, always, and…  
Gellert was right. There were so many stories that he hadn’t shared – that he had never shared with anyone, _including Gellert_. And this story – it was particularly important. 

Albus was quiet for a bit. He had learned so much about Gellert in less than a year and a half – and none of it made him love Gellert any less. If anything, each revelation made him want to hold Gellert a little tighter. It was just so hard –

“It was so fast,” Albus whispered, a bit shocked to be speaking, but determined not to stop, now that he had started. “She was there, Ari was carrying the dirty dishes from the table, and I was washing them. We always did things the Muggle way, because magic seemed to upset her, and when she was upset – you know.  
“Aberforth was drying, and Mother was putting everything away. And Ari – she dropped the stack of plates. We were just getting started; I had only washed the mugs and the forks. She dropped the plates and I saw them slipping out of her hands just out of the corner of my eye, and without thinking about it, I arrested the dishes in midair and brought them back up to the counter. And then I remembered – I realized that I had used magic and I wasn’t supposed to…  
“We had only been home from school for a week. I hadn’t adjusted yet, I suppose. It wasn’t – I wish I could call it an accident, but it wasn’t, not really, just – impulsive, careless. Ari’s eyes were wide, she was staring at my hands and screaming, and the water started to rise up from the sink, and – she was too close – and mother came running, and – she was so frightened, she was right beside me and shouting at Ari not to hurt me, and – ‘not Albus,’ she shouted, and she fell. She looked at me in surprise, she was right there – she looked surprised and in pain, and – she fell. It was so fast.  
“I dream of those plates, all the time. Would Ari have been just as scared, if they had hit the floor and shattered? If I had just let them drop…”

Gellert didn’t argue. Albus was glad Gellert didn’t say that Ari surely would have killed his mother eventually anyway, or that it wasn’t his fault, or anything else – it was – those things were probably true, but not right now, they weren’t. Right now, he only needed to be held. To smell Gellert, and to feel his arms wrapped around him. To feel him warm and alive and breathing and _safe_.  
And somehow, Gellert _was_ holding him. Without Albus noticing, at some point when he was still telling the story, Gellert had pulled Albus to his chest and held him close. Gellert wanted to be Albus’ safe place? He already was. There was no place safer than right here.

“Don’t die,” Albus pleaded. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it.” He had finally brought himself to need someone, and now –  
“I’m doing my best, Kätzchen.”

They both lay there quietly, Gellert running his fingers up and down Albus’ back.

“Mother, she - the Auror said that all of Mother’s blood had vanished. That’s why she was so cold and pale. Bodies, they don’t get cold right away, he said. They still feel warm for a few hours – there’s no pulse, and no breathing, but the skin feels just the same. Or it should do. Mother was – I reached down to touch her, to revive her, and she was cold. Ariana vanished all of her blood. Gellert, I don’t think _I_ could do that. I mean, now with the Elder Wand, of course, yes. With some concentration. But before – with my own wand, or wandlessly? No.”  
“No. That is the answer, then, isn’t it?”

Albus pushed himself up.  
“There are so many other ways to kill a person, Gellert. And sometimes accidental magic is stronger…”  
“Tell me, Schatz, the plates - they were _not_ an accident, you said?”  
“You _do_ think that it is my fault.”  
“Shhh… No, Liebling. I am asking – you say that the plates were not accidental magic, even though it happened without forethought.”  
“I did _want_ it to happen, though. I thought, ‘No! The plates!’ And I thought that I had to catch them, had to keep them from hitting the floor, and then – I did. When I say, ‘accidental magic,’ I don’t mean ‘wandless magic,’ even when I am not _trying_ for a desired result – I truly mean, ‘I _did not mean for that to happen._ I didn’t even _know_ I would want for that to happen.’ Like Wolf’s curtains catching fire.”

Gellert laughed. “I rather liked those curtains, myself. You found them offensive? In retrospect, you realized that you had _wanted_ to set those curtains on fire?”  
Albus had to laugh, too. It _had_ sounded like that was what he had meant.  
“I’m glad you overcame your distaste and did the Wurdiztals the courtesy of saving them in the end.”

Albus pulled the pillow out from under Gellert’s head and hit him with it. Gellert growled. He threw the pillow aside and tackled Albus.  
“Someone needs to teach you respect for other people’s bedrooms. Setting things on fire, and now hitting me with my own pillow!”  
“Well, it’s really only a facsimile…”

Gellert shouted in mock frustration. He pinned Albus’ hands above his head and moved in… not to kiss Albus (disappointingly), but to murmur in his ear, “You cheeky man! You make it very hard not to take you all to pieces, but we do not have…”  
“Do not have time for that, I know. Says the man who is straddling me and… ah! Kissing my neck, now! Gellert!”

“I could be fast…”  
“Not so soon after we have both come already, you can’t,” Albus protested.  
“Why do you have to be so practical? Are you _trying_ to talk me out of taking you in my mouth?”  
“I had rather hoped that you were proposing to ride me, but if you are wanting to go down on me again instea – eh! – ead! Gellert!”  
Gellert had vanished their clothing and was rubbing against Albus.  
“Do you know how many times I lay in this bed imagining that you were in it with me?” 

If he had not been so suddenly overwhelmed with Gellert’s unexpected capitulation to their mutual desire, Albus might have pointed out that Gellert had never actually laid in this particular bed before, nor could Albus possibly know how many times Gellert might have fantasized about him in his bed in his family’s castle, _if_ this had been that bed. But as it was, he was unable to say or think anything other than “Please! Gellert!”  
And after that, he was able to say nothing at all.

Albus should have expected that Gellert’s welcome shift in attention was temporary – that sex was not an end to the conversation, but an interruption.

Gellert had not said a word afterwards, simply gasping as he lay on Albus’ chest, before silently rolling onto his back, his fingertips touching Albus’. He had been quiet for so long that Albus had begun to imagine that Gellert had fallen asleep. He edged away, intending to get out of bed and satisfy his curiosity about the unusually detailed room. Given Gellert’s attention to all things visual, Albus imagined that everything he could see, down to the woodgrain on the bedposts, was a faithful reproduction. What about the things that he could not see? Were there clothes in the wardrobe? Was there ink in the inkwell? Would the soap on the washstand _smell like soap?_  
But Gellert spoke before Albus could investigate.

“Your accidental magic, Schatz – have you _ever_ done something that you regretted, something that destroyed something that you cared about in a way that could not be fixed? When doing _true_ accidental magic? I do not mean to include damage that you intended and later felt badly about.”

Albus thought back. There were so few times that he had performed magic spontaneously, without having pictured the result in his head even a moment before. Each time, there had been a strong emotion that had gotten out of control:  
There was the time that Aberforth had come into their shared bedroom, with the usual complaints about Albus being a bad son and a bad brother. But then he had gone so far as to accuse Albus of being unmoved by their father’s death. Albus blew up the oil lamp and it spilled flaming oil all over the desk. The fire had consumed an essay he had been writing, but Albus had already decided to abandon it, having discerned that his original thesis was incorrect. And the surface of the desk had been scorched in places. The books, however, had been untouched, somehow. Not singed, not even stained by the oil.  
Then there were the tremors that shook the house after the Aurors had taken his father away – everyone had blamed that on Ariana, but Albus had felt the energy build in him and then suddenly release just before the house began to quake – he knew that it had not been Ariana at all, but him. Nothing had been destroyed. Several things had fallen off the shelves, and they had all been a bit frightened by it, but not a single thing had broken. It was a good thing, too - they would not have been able to afford replacements.  
And there was the argument in Chicago and the subsequent dramatic emptying of Gellert’s trunk, blasting his clothes in every direction.  
The Legilimency sex, of course… though really that was the two of them together.  
And… that was all, wasn’t it?  
Well, and accidentally reading Aberforth’s dreams when he was sleeping. Did Legilimency count? Accidental magic – people usually thought of that as altering or manipulating _material_ things in one way or another.

Either way, the inventory was reassuring. For a moment. But then…  
“Gellert, are you suggesting that Ariana does not truly feel badly about killing Mother?”  
Albus was glad that he was already sitting at some distance from Gellert, because it would have been hard to tolerate Gellert holding him while implying something like that.  
Gellert seemed to have the opposite idea, pushing himself up to sit facing Albus and laying a hand on his knee.

“No, Love. I’m suggesting that, while she may feel badly now, she perhaps would not have done at the time. Whether or not she intended to kill her –“  
“Whether she _intended?!_ "  
Gellert drew his hand back. He set his jaw, and sat up straighter.  
But Albus was not done. "You think that it may not have been accidental at all?! That it might have been –“  
“Like your plates, yes." Gellert was unyielding. "Impulsive, as you said, but something that she did in fact _want to happen_. We cannot rule out the possibility.”  
“But –“

“Albus, you have said yourself that we do not know what she is capable of. And she says that everything she does _now_ is intentional. That story Aberforth told of her removing all of the bones in that Healer’s hand...”  
No. No, it wasn’t possible. Albus trusted Ariana less and less with each visit, but to mistrust her this far…  
“She didn’t even know she had killed Mother until after she’d been taken to St. Mungo’s!”  
Had she, though? Had she been lying about that, too?

“That does not mean that she didn’t wish that your mother was dead in the moment, Albus. All that she has to do is desire it, correct? She was likely very angry at her for taking your part.”  
Was Gellert saying…

“You think it was retaliation? That she thought that Mother loved me more than her?”  
“I cannot say, Liebling. Perhaps it is possible, yes. But no, what I intended was that perhaps she felt trapped by your mother’s constant interference and wished never to have anyone say no to her again, without reference to you, particularly.”  
Albus almost by rote picked up Gellert’s hand and licked the palm and said, “I forgive you.” Sure enough, he tasted blood. 

“Don’t lie to me, Angel. Mother was killed because Ariana was jealous of me. That is what you meant. That you think that Ariana was punishing Mother for trying to protect me instead of her. I understand why you said that wasn’t what you meant, but – don’t.”

“Jealousy? I do not know. Maybe that would have been too subtle of an emotion for Ariana in this situation. Rage, however… Fear…  
“Albus, yes. I'm sorry. I think that Ariana may have - perhaps killing you would have been intentional, or at least desirable in her eyes – a protective measure to make the magic around her less. If Ariana felt unsafe being close to you when you were performing magic, and if your mother, who she saw as her protector, was instead feeling that you were the one who was unsafe, that Ariana had to be prevented from removing the source of her distress… Ariana was in no way rational at that time - _this_ , I believe, is indisputable. Was she even seeing you as a person in that moment? Or only as a source of magic?  
“Your story – it sounds very much like your mother thought that Ariana was about to kill you. I’m sorry, I should not like to say so, but I think that your mother died in your place, and I think that she would have chosen to do so, had she thought about it, but more likely believed that she was the one person that Ariana was certain not to kill. Ariana was simply more dangerous than your mother was ever willing to admit, until that last moment, when she realized that one of her children might die because of her decision to protect the other.“

“I think that – “  
Albus almost had concluded with the words ‘you are wrong about this,’ but realized in time that this explanation fit what Ariana herself had told them about what life was like for her before Albus muted her hypersensitiveness. She was in such pain and confusion… But it made him ill to consider that she might have killed him - and that, if she had, it would have been because _she meant to_. 

“Gellert, you can’t be certain.”  
“No, I agree. And it is not the only possibility that has occurred to me. After I had met Ariana for the first time, when all I knew was that she had killed your mother with 'accidental magic,' I thought that perhaps, at that point in her life, she cared for nothing anymore but escaping from herself. That, of course, was something that she could not do, so that left her caring for nothing at all. Which would make her magic most dangerous. Caring for nothing would mean that nothing was safe from her outbursts. The only limit on her accidental magic was her capability, which remains extraordinary. Either way, for you to be standing so near to her – your mother was right to be afraid.”

Albus had never thought of accidental magic as anything other than… accidental. Gellert was right that Albus had never damaged anything he truly cared about. But four times in his memory… that was a very small number of occurrences on which to base a conclusion.  
Although, it occurred to Albus that he had seen Gellert shatter any number of things when he was upset. And before he had met Albus…

“Gellert, how often do _you_ perform accidental magic?”  
“Not often. No Wizard does it often, I think. No matter how angry I have been… I set the letter on fire, yes, but I wanted that – explicitly. I had pictured it already. But yes, I have noticed that when my emotions have broken out and I’ve destroyed objects – when it has been a true accident – it has never been something I cared about.”  
‘No,’ Albus thought, ‘it is nearly always someone else’s property.’  
“And I have never injured another person in that way. Not even with flying shards of broken glass, for instance.”

Albus noted Gellert’s modifier: It was not that he had never hurt another person, only that he had never hurt a person _in that way_. But Albus was in no position to judge. Gellert, at least, had not yet killed someone. Not yet killed someone intentionally. 

“You are not Ariana, Albus. She was overwhelmed, and perhaps did not care about other people, at least when she was at her worst. But you would care very much if you killed – even Aberforth.”  
_Even_ Aberforth?!  
“No matter how angry he makes you, the _moment_ you killed him, you would be sorry. And so, I believe that you never will. However much it pains me to say so.”  
“Gellert!”  
Gellert was smirking unrepentantly. Albus rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Let’s imagine that you are correct about accidental magic. I could still kill Aberforth accidentally, with magic. This – unintentional yet intentional wandless magic, like you setting the letter on fire…”  
Like the dishes…  
“I could be angry at Aberforth and impulsively imagine, for instance, throwing him across the room. I have not thrown a person before –“  
Gellert raised an eyebrow; Albus blushed.  
“ – in anger,” Albus corrected himself. “I wouldn’t know how much force was too much – if I threw him hard enough, I could kill him in that way, having intended all along to throw him, at least, but not having clearly pictured the final result.”

“And are you wishing to do _me_ violence, then, Love?”  
Albus blushed harder.  
“Well, no, but –“

“So perhaps we only have to worry about you ‘accidentally hurting someone with magic’ if they are being obnoxious.”  
“Gellert!”  
“Yes, fine, that is not the point. But what you have been scared of is _accidental_ magic. Of doing something that you did not imagine, did not, even for the briefest moment, intend. Something like – making my heart stop beating?”

“The Legilimency sex, again? Your heart could stop beating from the shock of –“  
“I could die of sheer pleasure, you think? I do not think that such things happen, Albus.”  
Why not, if losing consciousness was possible?  
"That is not what you thought had happened, in any case. At the time, you thought that you had killed me yourself, magically, because you were not in control."  
That was... accurate.

“But what does this have to do with the ritual?”  
“I have – we have never purposefully used sex in a ritual before, and –“  
And they had found so little documentation on its use – whether because the books had never been written, or because they had been destroyed. 

“Liebling, I feel confident that the ritual will achieve the results we intend. I am less confident about how we will experience the ritual itself.”  
“Perhaps we should focus on the soul tethering, instead, then.”  
“Albus, we have discussed this. We need both. And it makes more sense to do the dual casting ritual first, since the soul tethering ritual will be asymmetrical. Besides, accidental magic is just as possible with the soul tethering ritual.”

“You think that accidental magic is safe.”  
“No, I think that _we_ are safe from one another's accidental magic. I think that when magic happens spontaneously, it is, if anything, more in line with the deepest desires of the caster than at any other time.”  
“We almost killed ourselves building the platform. That was not on purpose.”  
“And yet _that_ was not accidental magic.”  
No, Albus supposed that was _intentional_ magic entered into and performed recklessly. With each of them consciously ignoring his own body’s protests.

“We will have less of a choice with the dual casting ritual. It is dangerous to stop once you have started.”  
“Yes, Albus, I know,” Gellert said impatiently.  
Albus had to admit that the tone Gellert was using was fair. Albus had just begun learning about ritual magic. Gellert did not need Albus to tell him that every ritual typically reached a point where it could not be stopped before being brought to completion.

“I have done the calculations. If there is one thing that I can say for certain, it is how much magic a ritual will take to perform, and in this case, as usual, it is very little. This is the reason for using rituals for difficult magic – we are drawing on the latent magic all around us – we do not need to rely on our own stores exclusively. Hardly at all, really. Depletion is not accidental magic, and I can say with confidence that there will be _no depletion_. But there is a fair chance that the ritual will trigger accidental magic. I need for you to be prepared. I need for you to stay focused no matter what happens, or we will both be in danger.”  
In danger in more than one way. It wasn’t conclusive that they would need dual casting to create a situation in which they could kill Leopold, but it would certainly help to have such a powerful tool. And if they didn’t manage to defeat him….

“Gellert? I think I need you to look.”  
“To… Albus. Do you mean –“  
“I need your help to see everything properly, and there is too much of it, and it is buried too far down. I want you to try to find it. All of it. Every instance of Ariana’s accidental magic that you can find.”  
“Liebling, are you sure? I might find _anything_. You –“  
“I know, Gellert. Of all people, I know.”  
It was not that Albus was no longer scared. But he knew that he was scared of losing Gellert more.

“How do you want me, Schatz?”  
Albus wasn’t sure. Not on top of him – he might feel trapped. Side by side on the bed, looking at one another… maybe. That still felt too… he didn’t know what it felt, except that it was not quite right.

“Can we - ? You sitting against the headboard, and me on your lap?”  
Gellert smiled.  
“Of course.”  
They arranged themselves with Albus straddling Gellert.

“Come here, Love.”  
Gellert drew Albus close into an embrace. Albus pressed his face into Gellert’s hair. Home.  
“I love you, Albus Dumbledore. I will always love you. You are safe.”  
He held Albus tighter.  
“Yes? You believe me?”

“Yes, you love me. I know you love me.”  
“And that I will love you even more when I know all of your stories? And I will keep them just as close to me as you have kept them close to you?”  
The words sounded like a vow when Gellert spoke them. Albus imagined the mark it would leave on each of their bodies, to craft an arrow of those words and loose it.  
“Albus?”  
Albus pulled back and met Gellert’s eyes.  
“I trust you.”

Gellert’s lips were slightly parted, as if he had a word to speak but wanted more to preserve this moment, exactly as it was. Albus sat back a bit further, so that their faces were far enough apart that those soft and expert lips would not inevitably draw him back in. 

“I trust you, Gellert Grindelwald, with my life.” Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them and met Gellert’s eyes again. “And with my every memory,” he whispered, sounding more uncertain than he had meant to.

Albus tried for a smile. “Now, Angel, before I lose my nerve.”  
“Now,” Gellert agreed, and then his face grew relaxed and empty, and Albus knew that he was gone. 

Albus didn’t feel his presence in his mind at all. With great difficulty, he resisted the temptation to peek into Gellert’s mind as Gellert explored his. What was Gellert finding? What did he think of him? Gellert was sure to leave him. Or find it difficult to respect him, anyway. No. No, there was nothing to find, nothing of consequence. It would be all right…

It was Not. All. Right.  
Nothing about this was acceptable. Why had Albus agreed to this?  
Albus could put an end to this. It would be as simple as turning his head away. 

‘No,’ he reminded himself. ‘You invited Gellert in _because you trust him_. Because you _need_ him, and you need his help. Ariana…’  
‘You mustn’t tell anyone about Ariana.’ His mother had said it so many times that the phrase – in her voice – floated to the top of his mind.  
But that was what had gotten his family into such trouble to begin with. Everything would have been different if they had not hidden Ariana. Albus had always believed that it had been a mistake. And if he didn’t share it with Gellert, he was making the same mistake. And making the additional mistake of not trusting this man who had never betrayed Albus to anyone.

Albus exhaled, releasing tension in his chest and his throat. He had forgotten so quickly what it felt like to breathe freely. He took a deep breath and let it out. There was no better person to tell than Gellert. Gellert was insightful and intelligent and knew so much about magic. Gellert understood what it was to feel the need to hide things. And Gellert loved him. This was good. This was a good thing.  
He hoped that Gellert found everything he needed, everything he was looking for.

Was this taking too long?  
‘It hasn’t been that long, really,’ he chided himself. ‘It has been not quite a minute, perhaps. You were in his mind for four.’  
Yes, and he had seen more than either of them had wanted.

Another deep breath. And another.  
In - Gellert loves me. Out - I trust Gellert. In – Gellert loves me…

Soon Gellert would be back, and Gellert would hold him, as he always held him. Albus would press against Gellert as tightly as he could, so tightly that the rise and fall of Gellert's chest would cause Albus' own body to move. Gellert would hold him, as close as two people could be, and Albus would sink all of his worries in Gellert’s reassuring scent. Soon. 

Gellert blinked.  
“Gellert?”  
“Oh, Albus. Oh, my Love.”  
Gellert looked so concerned. It was too much.  
“Gellert, I can’t –“

“Can’t - ?”  
“Can’t have you looking at me anymore right now? Can I –“  
“Lay down on me?”  
“No, just –“ Albus leaned in. He skated the tip of his nose over the warm soft skin of Gellert's neck. He smelled warm and familiar. Albus rested his head on Gellert's shoulder, and Gellert rubbed his back.

“Your mind, Love. Tell me about your inner landscape? When you were building your occlumency shields…”  
“When I first started building, my mind behind the shields was like Bathilda’s parlour, but that felt too personal. So, then it became something like what Olivander’s would be if it were a library.”  
“The wandmaker?”  
“Yes, his shop is – it’s not like Gregorovitch’s. It is small and dark and dusty. A jumble. Absolutely packed with wands. He knows where each one is – can call a particular wand to himself easily – but no one else would be able to find anything in there. I thought it would be – intimidating to an outsider.”  
Gellert laughed.  
“Yes, it certainly is. That’s where I started, then – your Olivander’s. In a tiny dark room filled with cobwebs, and all your memories were contained in scrolls, not even on shelves, but collected in several teetering piles behind an ever-receding counter. It was difficult to call a single scroll, and when one came to me, it was… usually not what I needed. Aberforth brought a common garden toad to the lunch table?”

That was quite a funny story, actually. "He was only four," Albus began, a bit defensive on his younger brother's behalf. Then he stopped himself. That had not been the point of this exercise at all.  
“Gellert, I’m so sorry. I suppose –“  
“No, Love, don't apologise. You did beautifully. Something happened, and the walls pushed out, and everything became bright and clean, and the scrolls were arranged on shelves... I still could not approach the collection of scrolls, but I was seated at a table, and when I asked for the scrolls pertaining to Ariana’s magic... It was fascinating, Albus. Only three scrolls came to me, and I knew that there must be more, but I can only read one at a time of course, so I decided to be patient and just begin, and – every time I rolled a scroll back up and laid it aside, it disappeared, and was replaced by another one. And every scroll that was brought to me was the very one I needed. As if – as if there were a librarian helping me. It looked just like the House of Wisdom, except that I was the only person there.”

“And then - ?”

“And then I came out. Or, almost. The scrolls kept appearing, but when I reached the first scroll that wasn’t about Ariana, I stopped. I had the most important answers, and I didn’t need to see more than I already had. I’ll let you keep some secrets for now.”  
Albus could tell by his tone of voice that Gellert was smiling. He sounded warm and fond and protective. Albus felt that he didn’t deserve such a generous tone. He had waited so long to share his memories with Gellert, and all the time his fear had been foolish. Gellert had been gentle, and willing to limit himself… whereas Albus had taken such license with Gellert – had even forced his way in, on one occasion. It hurt to think about. 

“Albus?”  
“Gellert?”  
“Are you still there?”  
Albus huffed.  
“Are you worried about what I saw?”  
Albus considered. “No. No, it will be ok.”  
Gellert didn’t reply. Waiting for Albus to say more, most likely.

Albus pulled away and forced himself to meet Gellert’s eyes.  
“I’m sorry, Gellert. That it took me so long, and that I didn’t trust you, when I am the one who cannot be trusted not to dig and –“  
“And the one who is curious all the time?”

Gellert tucked Albus’ hair behind his ear and smiled at him.  
“I love that you are curious, Liebling. It was wrong to read me against my will, yes. But all the other times… when I say that I am inviting you in, _I am inviting you in_. I know who you are, mein Kätzchen, sticking your nose into every corner. I love you, who you are. But for not trusting me? I forgive you. Always. Already, before today. I am grateful that you trusted me today.”

“I love you, Gellert. So much. And I haven’t been -”  
“Hush. No more apologies. I love you, too.”

Albus turned his head and scanned the room around them.  
“That washstand? Belongs in a museum.”  
Gellert laughed. “Shut up,” he said fondly. 

Albus wanted to keep teasing Gellert. He wanted, just for a moment, to pretend that none of the past hour or so had happened, that they were just two boys in love in a ridiculous bedroom. But he was too tired. His barriers were still down, and he was exhausted. 

Albus got off of Gellert and lay down on the bed.  
“I thought we were about to explore my room, Kätzchen. Too tired for a tour of my opulent childhood?”  
Albus smiled a half smile. “Later?”  
“Oh – _later_ is it? How much later?”  
“After we have napped. It has been a long morning already. Then after we have talked about my sister, I want to know about the view out your windows, and the lions over your fireplace, and everything.”

“Roll over then, Liebling.”  
With Gellert’s arm tight across his chest and Gellert’s lips pressed against the back of his neck, Albus was soon asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language notes:  
> People have been saying ‘I had no idea’ since at least the 1780s! You have no idea how excited I am about this ;-)  
> And – let the reader beware! ‘Hypersensitiveness’ was the preferred term, both generally and medically, before 1950, but it is no longer in use. If you find a need to express this concept in English, people are going to think that you are making up words if you say ‘hypersensitiveness’ instead of ‘hypersensitivity’ (which was not yet a word in 1900.)


End file.
